Taking Inventory
by klswhite
Summary: Mrs. Hughes uses some of the cuts in staffing the family has made to her advantage. I don't own any of the characters. Trust me if I did there would be a lot more Chelsie and a lot less of any of the upstairs characters (except the Dowager Countess because she priceless).
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**There is one minor spoiler for Series 5 Episode 8. It doesn't give away much of the plot just a point of interest. So if you haven't seen the new series yet, you can probably read this without too much worry.**

Elsie Hughes walked down the stairs to her office with an almost smug expression on her face. She'd just completed her rounds for the morning and was pleased to find everything in perfect shape. Pride ran through her. Her ability to embrace change and new things meant she was able to run the household to her exacting standards with vastly fewer staff members.

Had anyone asked her even a few months ago she would have thought it impossible. However, today's rounds had proven that not to be the case. She fought the smile that threatened as she imagined Mr. Carson's disbelief when she shared her accomplishment. Should she tell him now or wait until their evening glass of sherry?

The advantage to waiting to the evening was there was a better than average chance her success would annoy him. Having him all to herself would mean she could tease him, a pastime she seemed to enjoy more and more of late. She enjoyed it even more when he turned the tables on her and almost flirted. Those moments seem to happen more frequently of late.

She wondered if this trend would continue now that they would no longer be separated for at least three months each year. Lord Grantham's announcement about no longer keeping a housekeeper for Grantham House meant she would be making the annual trek to London with him. More time with Mr. Carson was something she looked forward to.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the very man she was thinking about. She paused, listening to what he was saying, "Mr. Barrow, I'll be turning over things to you for the next few days."

The unctuous voice of Thomas filled the gap, "Are you taking a few days off Mr. Carson? I hope everything is alright."

She smiled to herself imagining his face at the impertinence of the question, "Everything is fine Mr. Barrow. His Lordship has asked me to oversee a few repairs at the London house. I will be travelling there in the morning. I trust you will able to handle things here in my absence?"

"Of course, Mr. Carson."

Elsie took a step into the alcove not wanting Thomas to see her. She thought about Mr. Carson in London and wondered briefly if he would stay at the house or elsewhere. A secret smile crossed face, she wondered. Without a second thought she turned back to the stairs to go upstairs, perhaps a brief chat with the Lady of the house was in order.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**I have to say you guys are the best fandom out there. Your support is overwhelming. Thanks for making me feel so welcome.**

On her second trip below stairs Elsie Hughes was no longer hiding her smug expression. She was quite proud of what she had just accomplished. Now to put her plan into action.

At the foot of the stairs she made a point of shaking her skirts. She knew it would make the keys which seemed a permanent part of her make more noise than usual. If she was honest, she didn't really think he needed the extra noise. A small part of her suspected he knew when she was around just as she knew when he was. But one couldn't be too careful when plotting something this delicate.

Her steps were extra crisp, making sure her heels struck the hard floor with a slightly sharper touch. She made it almost to the edge of his pantry then turned neatly going back into her sitting room. She went behind her desk and pretended to rummage about as if she was looking for something. Actually, she was waiting.

The wait wasn't long, within seconds there was a polite tap at her door. Looking down she bit the inside of her cheeks to hide the smile. There was something delightfully reassuring about the predictably of Charles Carson, "Mrs. Hughes, if you have a moment?"

She looked up feigning exasperation, "Just Mr. Carson, I've only now returned from a meeting with her ladyship and I've several things to complete."

"I trust everything is alright."

Smiling tightly as if he had insulted her, "Why wouldn't it be?"

He took a small step back, silently admonishing himself. Why did he always do this to her? He only wanted to make sure she was OK, he hadn't meant to imply anything. He always seemed to step into it when he talked to her, "I am sorry Mrs. Hughes; I didn't meant to imply anything. I simply wanted to let you know I will gone for a few days. Mr. Barrow will be filling in for me."

Softening her expression to draw him further into her parlor, "Perhaps I should be the one asking if you are well Mr. Carson."

He took two long strides into her office. The only thing separating them was her desk, "I didn't mean to make you worry Mrs. Hughes. His lordship has asked me to oversee a few repairs at Grantham House. I'll be leaving on the first train. It shouldn't take more than a few days I imagine."

Picking up several pieces of paper, the ones she had been pretending to look for, she stepped around her desk so she was just in front of him, almost but not quite invading his personal space. She smiled up at him, "Well I am glad there is nothing wrong with you Mr. Carson. Would you, by chance, care for company on the train in the morning?"

"No Mrs. Hughes, I have made the trip to and from London by myself many times. I assure you I am not in need of company."

Turning on her heel she moved to leave her office. At the door she turned to him, "Thanks for letting me know. It's just her ladyship has asked me to go to London to do a thorough inventory of the house. I thought it might be nice to have a bit of company on the train not to mention someone who knows his way around London to escort me to the house. However, I understand you wouldn't want my company. I'll simply take the later train. I'm certain I can make my way to the house alone."

With the words still ringing in the air, she left her sitting room leaving him standing with his mouth agape. It took him several seconds to register what she'd said to him. He hadn't known the company she was suggesting was herself. He couldn't think of many things he wanted more in life than several uninterrupted hours alone with Elsie Hughes. Unless it was several uninterrupted days alone with Elsie Hughes. He swallowed deeply trying to clear his head of the unsavory thoughts flitting through his mind. His hand reached for his waistcoat tugging lightly on it.

One last deep breath calmed his thoughts. It was then he realized she was no longer in the room. A last tug on his waistcoat and he hurried from her sitting room in search of her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Mr. Carson rounded the corner into the kitchen expecting to find Mrs. Hughes in a discussion with Mrs. Patmore. However, he found Daisy studying in the corner and Mrs. Patmore instructing one of the new kitchen maids. He shook his head trying to control his annoyance at this scene.

Knowing he needed answers, he decided to let it go for the moment, "Mrs. Patmore, have you seen Mrs. Hughes?"

She turned to him and had to stop the smile his anxiousness almost caused. She didn't know what Mrs. Hughes had done but it certainly had a certain butler stitched up, "Only for a moment Mr. Carson. She was in search of Miss Baxter. You might try the sewing room."

He nodded stiffly, his hand briefly reaching for his waistcoat before he stilled it, "Thank you Mrs. Patmore."

She let him get almost to the door before she called out loudly, "Would you like me to tell her you are looking for her?"

She fought laughter as his shoulders stiffened. He turned back to her, "No, thank you. I'm sure I will find her."

Once he was no longer in sight she let a small giggle escape. She was certain if Elsie Hughes didn't want to be found, he wouldn't find her.

He searched through all of the rooms downstairs and could not find her. It seemed everyone he encountered had only just seen her. Frustration was building as he went in search of her upstairs. Trying to look as if he was on his regular rounds he walked with calm, measured steps. A silent prayer on his lips that he wouldn't encounter anyone that might derail his search.

"Carson."

He paused just outside the door to the sitting room. He took a single breath and entered the room, "Yes milady."

"I hope you won't mind that I've asked Mrs. Hughes to go to the London house."

"No, milady, with Mrs. Butte no longer taking care of the house a thorough inventory seems wise."

She smiled, "That is what I thought too. And since Lord Grantham mentioned he was sending you it seemed wise to send you both at the same time. I was worried about Mrs. Hughes being in the house all alone. You will watch out for her won't you Carson?"

Bowing slightly, "Yes my lady. I assure you no harm will come to her."

"Thank you Carson."

"Will that be all milady?"

She nodded watching him leave the room. For a moment she wondered why Carson looked so anxious. Shaking her head she concluded she had imagined it. She'd probably stopped him on his way to take care of something in the house.

Once out of the room Mr. Carson leaned against the wall. Her ladyship had just given him a gift. The perfect reason to convince Elsie, for that was how he always thought of her, to take the earlier train with him. He couldn't dare tell her how much he wanted her to travel with him. But he could make it seem he had been tasked with her safety.

Breathing a sigh of relief he abandoned his search. A brief stop in his office to write her a note followed by a quick stop at her desk to leave the note and he returned to his normal routines with an extra spring in his step.

Had he taken a few moments to read the note from her perspective he might not have been quite as happy.

_Dear Mrs. Hughes,_

_I've spoken with Lady Grantham and she has asked me to look after you while in London. Perhaps it is best we provide each other company on the first train. I think we should leave the house at a quarter past seven. We can discuss further details tonight over sherry._

_Mr. Carson_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Mrs. Hughes waited until well after the dinner gong rang before returning to her sitting room. Twenty odd years walking the halls of Downton Abbey had made her an expert in not being found. With Charles, which was how she thought of him since the day at the seaside, safely occupied serving the family she could finish up the last few things she needed to attend to before departing the next morning.

Her afternoon hiding hadn't been wasted. She'd met with Miss Baxter and with Anna to make sure her responsibilities at Downton were covered in her absence. She'd finished a new rota for the airing out of one of the wings seldom used and she'd spent quite a bit of time with one of the new housemaids making sure she was settling into her new life at Downton. All in all it had been a very successful afternoon.

Rounding her desk she saw Charles' note. She was just about to pick it up to read when there was a knock at her door. Leaning against her doorway was a mischievous looking Mrs. Patmore, "What have you done to the man now?"

Turning the note over, no need for curious eyes to see it. She rolled her eyes, "What man would that be?"

Mrs. Patmore took a few steps into the room and closed the door, "Don't play coy with me Elsie Hughes. You know exactly what man I mean." She raised her eyebrows and was rewarded by a sly smile, "A certain butler who spent a fair portion of the afternoon tearing around the downstairs looking for you. What exactly have you done?"

"I've done nothing Mrs. Patmore. Her ladyship has asked me to go to London to inventory the house. It so happens Mr. Carson will also be in London overseeing some repairs."

"Oooh, alone in London with Mr. Carson. Why do I have the feeling it wasn't her Ladyship's idea at all for you to go to London?"

Hiding a smile, "You act as if I control what her Ladyship wants. We both noticed at Lady Rose's wedding the linen inventory was low. She thought it best we tend to it before the season starts. His Lordship happened to mention to her Mr. Carson was going and she thought it best I go as well since I don't know my way around the area that well."

Laughter filled the room, "You'll never convince me her Ladyship came up with that idea on her own."

"Well it's a good thing it's not you who needs convincing."

Both women laughed, "Well what did he say when he found you?"

Elsie looked at her questioningly, "Mr. Carson never found me this afternoon. What makes you think he did? Or could for that matter?"

"Only if you allowed him to find you. He came back just before the gong much calmer. I guessed he must have talked with you and you calmed his anxious nerves."

Elsie's hand twitched nervously towards the note. She looked at Mrs. Patmore, "Well I have no idea what calmed his nerves but it wasn't me."

Mrs. Patmore knew when she had been dismissed. Turning to the door she paused as her hand touched the doorknob, "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Fingers still hovering over the note on her desk, "I don't suppose you could put together a basket for the train."

Mrs. Patmore smiled to herself, "I'll see to it myself."

Elsie's eyes followed Mrs. Patmore until she was sure she was gone. Flipping the note over, she read Charles' note,

_Dear Mrs. Hughes,_

_I've spoken with Lady Grantham and she has asked me to look after you while in London. Perhaps it is best we provide each other company on the first train. I think we should leave the house at a quarter past seven. We can discuss further details tonight over sherry._

_Mr. Carson_

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, well that answered one question. Now he seemed to think spending time with her was an obligation. Perhaps Mr. Carson needed to be reminded she was not an obligation nor a chore but a privilege.

Crumbling his note she dropped it into the basket under her desk. She straightened a few things on her desk, collected what she needed and headed for the staff dining room. Watching the hustle and bustle in the room gave her an idea, she walked through the dining room into the kitchen.

Catching Mrs. Patmore's eye she motioned for her to join her in the hallway. When Mrs. Patmore joined her she took a quick look around to make sure no one was about, "Would it cause too much of an inconvenience if I took a tray in my room?"

"What's he done now?"

"Nothing Mrs. Patmore, I just realized I might need some extra time packing is all. I'll be in London with none of the family around, I don't really see the point in wearing my normal dresses."

"And you want to look especially good for a certain butler."

"Enough with your insinuations." Seeing the almost hurt look on her friend's face she softened, "Do you mind? About the tray?"

Mrs. Patmore waved it off, "It's no trouble. I'll send Eve up with something in a bit."

"Thank you."

Turning to go she stopped and smirked at Elsie, "What am I supposed to tell himself when he asks where you are?"

Seeing an opportunity to apologize to her friend and twist the knife with Charles she smiled, "You seem to have all of the answers. Tell him whatever you think is best."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**I really do like Mrs. Patmore. She is a busy body in the best sense of the word.**

Most of the staff was gathered around the table for dinner. Only two chairs were empty, Mr. Carson's and Mrs. Hughes'. Mr. Carson entered the room met by the normal scraping of chairs as the staff stood. His eyes were instantly drawn to her empty chair.

His hand went instantly to his waistcoat, pulling on it slightly. Pulling out his chair to sit he noticed that her place wasn't even set. He was just about to stand again to find the meaning behind her empty place when Mrs. Patmore entered the room carrying a heavy tureen.

She set the tureen down for the kitchen maids to start serving and went to the end of the table. "In case you're wondering where Mrs. Hughes is, she had a tray sent to her room."

Trying to maintain his composure he lowered his voice, "Did she say why?"

Watching the table to make sure no one was too obviously paying attention she shook her head, "Not really, I was in her sitting room earlier and she said nothing about it."

She could see him visibly tensing, "Then when did she tell you about her plans?"

"I left her alone in her sitting room. About ten minutes later she found me in the kitchen and asked if I would mind if she had a tray in her room so she could pack. It was no trouble so I agreed. Eve took a tray up shortly after."

"Did she indicate she would be down later, after she packed?"

Hiding her smile she shook her, "It wasn't my impression. I believe she was planning to turn in after she finished her packing. Was there a specific reason she should have come back down Mr. Carson?"

He bristled in his chair. His thoughts running wild through his head. He had clearly invited her to join him for sherry. Why would she turn him away in such a fashion? Perhaps she had left him a note, like he had done for her. Had she missed his note? Did she still think he didn't want her to travel with him?

Mrs. Patmore watched several emotions play across Mr. Carson's face. She had to hand it to Elsie Hughes, she certainly knew how to rile the man. Perhaps she should add some fuel to the fire, Elsie had told her to tell him whatever she felt was best, "Mr. Carson, was there some reason Mrs. Hughes would come back down?"

He visibly started, pulled from his own racing thoughts. He dropped his spoon and knocked over a glass of water, "Blast."

Mrs. Patmore stayed his hands as she mopped up the water. She motioned to Eve to bring him a fresh spoon, "Are you quite alright Mr. Carson?"

He took the spoon from Eve trying to calm his thoughts, "Yes Mrs. Patmore, I'm quite alright. I just wish Mrs. Hughes had let me know she wouldn't be at dinner."

Water cleared up she poured him another glass, "I'm sure she didn't want to bother you during dinner service. You aren't always at your best when you are interrupted, even by Mrs. Hughes."

He looked at her sharply, wondering what she meant with that last statement, "I have many responsibilities Mrs. Patmore. It takes a tremendous amount of concentration to make sure they all go according to plan."

Knowing when to leave well enough alone Mrs. Patmore nodded, "So do we all Mr. Carson. But it costs us nothing to be kind to those around us."

With those last words she returned to the kitchen leaving Mr. Carson to stare after her, his face turning red. What did the blasted woman mean with her last remark? Slamming his spoon on the table he stood. Everyone at the table hurriedly stood and watched in surprise as he left the room without taking a single bite of his dinner.

From the kitchen Mrs. Patmore peeked around the corner and watched him leave. She made a mental note to pack a little extra in the basket. A hungry butler was a grumpy butler.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

With the staff distracted, he stole into her sitting room. He went to her desk looking for his note. It wasn't where he remembered leaving it. He carefully rifled through her paperwork. The note was nowhere to be found.

Hearing movement from the hallway he moved away from her desk headed to the door. His eyes raked her desk one last time desperately. His glance fell to the basket beneath her desk. His note lay there, discarded. With a quick glance to the door he shuffled back to the basket and grabbed the note from the basket.

A few quick steps and he was in the hallway just as the staff began to disperse from the dining room. He made his way to his office and closed the door firmly. At his desk he looked to see if there was a note from her. It was clear, instantly, there was no note.

Dropping heavily into his chair he uncrumpled the note. He read it hoping he hadn't been clear in his intentions. Just as he remembered, he'd made it clear that he wanted to end his evening with her. So why was she punishing him like this? Why was she up in her room while he was sitting alone? Why was he alone?

A gentle knock drew his attention. He dropped the note on his desk and scrubbed his hand across his face, "Come in."

The door opened and Mrs. Patmore slipped in quickly, closing the door behind her. She walked across the room and placed a small tray on his desk, "You didn't eat dinner. I thought you might need something to carry you through the night."

He looked over the tray. A rather large slab of apple tart, a pot of tea and two cups filled it, "Thank you Mrs. Patmore, I won't be needing the second cup. I don't think Mrs. Hughes will be joining me tonight."

She poured him a cup of tea then filled the second one, "I thought I might join you, if you don't mind that is?"

Smiling sadly he nodded, "I would like that Mrs. Patmore."

She pushed the slice of tart towards him and picked up her cup. Her eyes were draw to the note, she read it quickly while he tucked into the tart. The note cleared up the picture quite nicely. Taking a step back and settling into the chair across from him she thought about what Elsie had told her earlier. "_Tell him whatever you think is best_."

"You know Mr. Carson, I couldn't help but see the note on your desk." He paused mid-bite. She waved him off, "You didn't really think she was going to take it well did you?"

He put the plate on his desk before looking up at her, "I don't know what you mean Mrs. Patmore."

"That note reads more like a man taking care of an obligation, a responsibility. She paused for a moment debating how far to push.

"I have an obligation to everyone under this roof. Her ladyship asked me to watch over Mrs. Hughes."

"I'm sure she did and, of course, you should." His smug nod helped her make a decision. She stood and placed her cup on the tray. "Perhaps I read you wrong Mr. Carson."

He looked at her curiously, "In what way Mrs. Patmore."

"I thought you looked at Mrs. Hughes as more than an obligation."

He sputtered, "I do, of course I do. She's a friend."

Walking to the door she hid her smile, "Then perhaps it's time you started treating her as such. Good night Mr. Carson."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Elsie finished her packing. It shouldn't have taken so long. She was only going to be in London for three days. She fingered the material of one of her blouses. It was soft, the material fluid. She'd bought it, on impulse, on her last half day. There were other things she had purchased on that day too.

Fastening the case she thought about the trip to London. Three days alone with Mr. Carson, Charles. Her mind flashed to his note. She wasn't really mad about it. It was his way. She suspected, believed, he had feelings for her. Since the seaside he had let his guard down at times. Her hope was this trip would break down those last few barriers between them.

She loved him, she had for some time. It was what prompted her to speak with her ladyship earlier. A piece of her felt guilty for manipulating the woman the way she had.

It hadn't been hard. A few well-placed words, carefully worded questions was all it had taken. Her ladyship had asked her to go to London to inventory the house. The best part, she thought it was all her idea. If anyone had asked Lady Grantham, she would have sworn she was creating an imposition for Mrs. Hughes. She almost felt guilty.

She looked at her clock and debated joining him for sherry. Shaking her head she told herself no. He needed to learn. His words hurt her, the careless way he treated her was painful. She used to brush it off, forgive him, defend him even.

London was their chance, once and for all. Either way, she wouldn't be staying at Downton much longer. She had proven she could manage the house to her standards in the new environment. The catch was, she no longer wanted to. She knew she was ready to leave this life. It was time to live her life and she wanted to do it with him. But she would do it, without him if she had to.

* * *

><p>Charles stared at the door long after Mrs. Patmore left. He should be frustrated, even angry with her. The truth was, she was right, he had treated Mrs. Hughes, Elsie, like an obligation. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle of whisky. He didn't have a glass handy so he poured a healthy measure into the tea cup.<p>

He smiled as he took a sip. What would she think if she could see him now? No doubt she would make some saucy comment, tease him. He closed his eyes hearing her brogue in his mind. Even on the worst days her voice could soothe him. A kind word, a teasing snipe even a hint of anger, it made no difference to him.

He loved her, if he was honest with himself, he'd loved her as long as he'd known her. Their trip to the seaside was when he finally put a name to his feelings. One would think it would make it better, to know what the feeling was. Somehow it had been worse. He felt awkward and stilted when he was with her. He battled the desire to pull her to him and claim her as his own. The battle meant he pushed her away sometimes in unnecessarily hurtful ways.

Even today as the opportunity of a lifetime presented itself he had managed to ruin it. He picked up the note she'd discarded so easily. Reading it, he finally saw it as she would have seen it. Why couldn't he have just said he would be happy to have her as company, on the train and in life? It would have cost him nothing to say it.

Fatigue gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, a constant companion these days. It was time he faced the fact, he didn't want to do this anymore. But she showed no sign of stopping. She had embraced the changes and seemed to be thriving. As tired as he was, as much as he would like to walk away from it all and finally live his life, he wouldn't do it if it meant being away from her.

Finishing his drink he put the bottle away then gathered all of the items on the small tray. He put out the lights in his office, picked up the tray and carried it to the kitchen. He washed the items leaving them to dry on the rack. Mrs. Patmore had been kind to bring him something, he wouldn't create more work for her or her staff.

Heavily, he started the walk up the stairs. At the landing where the stairs split he looked up towards the women's side. As much as he'd missed her tonight he hoped she was resting. He made a promise to himself that he would insist she sleep later while they were in London. There was no need for them to keep to their strict time tables. Perhaps, as she said, they could afford to live a little.

Continuing his climb, he went to his room. He changed out of his livery and got ready for bed. His case was packed, ready for the early departure. In the morning, he would make things right. He lay on the bed and stared at the wall. That thin wall was all that separated them, at least physically.

He didn't know if she knew he'd moved his bed. Years ago it had been in the center of the room. After the fire, when he'd discovered her bed was against their shared wall he'd rearranged his furniture wanting to put himself closer to her. Rolling to his side he placed his hand on the wall, where he imagined her shoulder would be, "Good night Elsie, sleep well."

* * *

><p>Elsie returned from the washroom. She hung her dress in the wardrobe before turning down her bed. Without really thinking about it she was listening for him. It comforted her when she heard him moving about his room.<p>

The slight squeak of his bed let her know he was settling in for the night. A quick glance at her clock told her it was earlier than normal. Perhaps not having sherry had been a good thing. He needed his rest, they both did. Perhaps while they were in London she could convince him to work a more relaxed day. There would be no one around monitoring their comings and goings. They could enjoy a less rigid schedule, enjoy a bit of life.

Settling into her own bed she turned to face the wall. She closed her eyes imagining the layout of his room. She knew his bed was in the center of the room, even here he was an arm's length away. Her fingers traced the wall wishing he was closer.

Closing her eyes she whispered a quick prayer he would come around while they were in London. That he would finally see her as a woman first and a housekeeper second. She knew staying away tonight had been unnecessarily harsh, tomorrow would probably be even more so but she would push him, to the breaking point if need be.

It was time for him to come to her. She rolled away from the wall, placing her back against it. Her arm rested on her waist. Closing her eyes she imagined it was his arm, the wall was his body. She pretended he was holding her close, surrounding her body with his, "Good night Charles, sleep well."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Morning came quickly enough. Mrs. Hughes was up and dressed early. She carried her case downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Patmore was already bustling around a basket filling it with a variety of items.

"How much are you packing into that basket Mrs. Patmore? I only wanted something for the train."

Mrs. Patmore laughter filled the kitchen, "Well there won't be anything in the pantry at Grantham House. This will get you through today. I made arrangements for some basic supplies to be delivered early tomorrow morning. I trust you can handle cooking some simple meals without destroying my kitchen."

Elsie rolled her eyes, "You might find this hard to believe Mrs. Patmore but I can cook a few things."

Closing the basket she turned and smiled, "Well don't you look a sight."

Mrs. Hughes smiled shyly, "I told you I wasn't going to wear my normal dresses."

"Wearing that, even if you burn every meal, I don't think Mr. Carson will mind. He might even suggest treating you to a meal out somewhere."

Mrs. Hughes lifted the basket, "I'm not sure you take obligations out for a meal."

Mrs. Patmore watched Elsie carry the basket to the back door, "He seemed quite forlorn last night. It seems he was expecting you to join him."

"Well next time he should ask me to join him, not assume I will."

Mrs. Patmore closed the distance between them pushing Elsie out the back door into the courtyard, "I understand what you're doing but tread lightly." The look Elsie gave her would have scared anyone else, Beryl just shook her head. "I reckon you have some plan. Just don't punish him too much, he cares for you. Only he doesn't know how to tell you."

"Good Morning Ladies, enjoying some fresh air early?"

Mrs. Patmore smiled, "Good morning Mr. Branson, I was just helping Mrs. Hughes out with her things. She'll be leaving for London soon."

Tom smiled at the two ladies, "That's right. Lady Grantham mentioned you were going to inventory the house. I'm about to head into town, I could offer you a ride."

Elsie looked back at the house, she really should wait. Mrs. Patmore smiled at Tom, "That's a lovely idea Mr. Branson. If you get her bags, I'll get her coat."

Nodding his head Tom stepped towards the door and Elsie's waiting bags, "It's my pleasure Mrs. Patmore."

Mrs. Patmore stepped into the house and returned a moment later hearing Elsie talk to Mr. Branson, "Tom, I really should wait. Mr. Carson will be down at any moment."

Tom laughed as he put the basket Mrs. Patmore had prepared, "Well I hope you weren't planning on carrying that basket all the way into town. Mrs. Patmore seems to have outdone herself." He turned to her and smiled at her concern, "I'd offer to wait but I only have the two seats." He smiled to himself feeling a bit mischievous, "I guess you could ride in Mr. Carson's lap." Elsie raised an eyebrow, admonishing him silently. Tom laughed, "I'm just kidding Mrs. Hughes. I'm sure Mr. Carson won't mind if you ride with me. You'll be saving his back."

Mrs. Patmore returned and helped Elsie into her coat. She handed Elsie her hat and gloves, "Go on Mrs. Hughes, I'll send Mr. Carson along shortly. I'm positive he would want you to have the luxury of a ride."

Elsie whispered, "What are you doing? Not two minutes ago you told me to take it easy on him."

"And you will once he gets to the train. Don't worry, I'll explain everything to him."

"Are you sure?"

Mrs. Patmore turned her towards the car and gave her a gentle push, "Don't worry, I've got it all under control."

Tom held the door open and helped Elsie into the car. Once she was settled she smiled back at Mrs. Patmore and waved, "Tell him I'll save him a seat."

Smiling, Mrs. Patmore waved back, "I'll tell him. You have fun in London, don't work too hard."

The car pulled away as Beryl watched. Once it was out of sight she scurried back into the house. A quick look at the clock told her Mr. Carson should be down at any moment. She hurried into the kitchen and sat at her desk. She wanted it to look as if she was having a perfectly normal day when he came down.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Charles had been awake for almost an hour. Partly out of habit and partly due to nerves. He'd never really spent any time alone with Elsie. Oh they shared a glass of wine here or there and they were alone while they did it. But there were always other people around. They knew at any moment they could be interrupted.

Today he would spend hours with her. First on a train where there would be nowhere to escape. He wondered if they would be able to get a carriage to themselves. He certainly hoped it would happen. Then once they were in London, they would be alone in the house. No one would be there to interrupt them if they lingered over a glass of wine.

He had things he would love to show her. It was his fervent wish she would allow him. He wanted to take her to his favorite restaurant. It was the place he escaped to on his rare evenings off during the season. He'd never shared it with another soul.

He hadn't heard her moving around her room and wondered for a moment if she was still sleeping. It wasn't as if she was normally noisy, others probably wouldn't hear her at all. He was carefully attuned to her noises. They comforted him in a way he couldn't explain even to himself.

Picking up his coat and hat, he grabbed his bag and headed downstairs. He could check to see if anyone had seen her and if they hadn't send someone to check on her. Perhaps he could even have Mrs. Patmore prepare them something small for the train.

Entering the kitchen he found Mrs. Patmore sitting at her desk. The kitchen maids were distracted with preparing the staff breakfast. He placed his case near the back door before turning back to her, "Good morning Mrs. Patmore." She nodded continuing to make notes on the pieces of paper in front of her. Stepping closer he looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, "I'm not sure I thanked you properly for last night."

Keeping her head down so he wouldn't see her smile, "And what exactly are you thanking me for Mr. Carson?"

His hand automatically pulled on his waistcoat, "For the tea and the apple tart." Her sharp look made him drop his head, "And for the sympathy and advice. It didn't fall on deaf ears Mrs. Patmore."

She nodded sharply, "Good to know Mr. Carson."

"You haven't, by chance, seen Mrs. Hughes this morning?"

She stood looking deeper into the kitchen like she was checking on her staff, "As a matter of fact I have. She left with Mr. Branson about ten minutes ago."

"She what?" he blustered.

"Mr. Branson happened to catch us outside and he offered her a ride into town." She watched his body tense and decided a bit more wouldn't hurt him, "She seemed a bit relieved. I got the feeling she didn't feel you really welcomed travelling with her."

Tugging again on his waistcoat, "Why would she think that?"

She looked at him until he squirmed, "That note might have had something to do with it."

"I don't suppose you told her about our conversation last night."

Mrs. Patmore turned away from him. She picked up a few slices of toast and bacon, wrapped them in a cloth then returned to Mr. Carson, "Weren't my place to tell her. Not that I would know what to tell her anyway." She pressed the wrapped items into his hand, "Perhaps you should use the walk to decide what you want to say to her."

He looked down to the cloth in his hand an idea forming in his head, "Why do I have a suspicion that you arranged this whole thing Mrs. Patmore?"

Pushing him toward the door she laughed, "You give me entirely too much credit Mr. Carson. As if I control Mr. Branson's schedule or what Elsie Hughes will or won't do. Get away with you. You've a nice walk on a beautiful day." She took the wrapped food from him to allow him to put on his coat and hat. Once he'd lifted his case she handed the food back to him, "Go on Mr. Carson, you can use this time alone to figure out how you're going to convince her she is more than an obligation."

Stepping outside he shook his head, "I don't know how you did it Mrs. Patmore but somehow you made that sound risqué."

"Risqué…that might be a good place to start Mr. Carson."

She was gone into the house before he could respond. Charles shook his head as he began his walk. Risqué thoughts flitting through his head.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**A quick note to thank all of you wonderful people who have reviewed. It is absolutely delightful. For registered users, I have tried to respond personally to all of you, if I missed a few, please forgive. For non-registered users, here is your personal thank you. It really does mean the world to me. Hope you enjoy the next chapter of my little saga.**

Elsie was seated in the carriage. She had spread out her few things on the seats trying to make it look as if other people were joining her. A few people had tried to enter the cart and she had politely but decidedly turned them away.

She knew there likely wouldn't be many people on the train this morning so having a carriage to themselves, at least for the first leg of the trip, should be achievable. She looked out the window in search of him. If he was in a mood because she didn't join him for sherry last night her plan might backfire. Four hours on a train with a grumpy Charles Carson would be a special form of torture.

Her eyes fell to the basket Mrs. Patmore had packed. She had a sneaking suspicion that something in there might calm him if he was too difficult.

People were starting to enter the carriages, no longer standing about. It meant the train would be departing soon. She was almost frantic with worry, perhaps he had decided to take the later train after all. Had her actions last night pushed him further away? Panic began to set in when she finally saw his tall frame striding through the small crowd.

She watched him with hungry eyes. He really was, dare she say, beautiful. Even after all of these years, she wasn't immune to his looks. Her heart beat a little faster, her breathing sped up. She fought a smile of pleasure just watching him stride so confidently along the platform.

Her hand raised unconsciously to draw his attention. She stopped it, remembering her promise to herself to make him come to her. A deep breath calmed her pounding heart, she schooled her features thankful for years of hiding her emotions. He would either see her and join her; or he wouldn't. A sudden thought passed through her mind, what if he saw her and chose not to join her? What if he chose to make the journey alone? He could find her on the platform in London and escort her to the house to honor his obligation.

The spiral of thoughts distracted her to the point she didn't see him open the carriage door. Instinct kicked in and she turned an icy glare on the person, "I'm sorry all of these seats are taken."

He smiled at her, "Do you think you might squeeze one more person in? I'm not that big." He held up the cloth wrapped food, "And I have breakfast."

She blushed, looking away from him, "Please forgive me Mr. Carson."

Still standing on the platform, "There's nothing to forgive Mrs. Hughes. Just tell me I can join you."

She nodded shyly, "You can always join me Mr. Carson. I saved the seats hoping you would."

Climbing into the carriage he put his case away over the seats. He motioned to hers and she nodded that he could put it away as well, "Was there some reason you thought I might not want to join you?"

Raising her eyebrows at him, "As I recall Mr. Carson, you did say you preferred to travel alone."

Smiling at her challenging look he made a simple decision, he sat beside her. "Quite right Mrs. Hughes. But that was before I knew whose company I would be sharing. If my choices are travelling alone or travelling with you, I will always choose the latter."

Smiling to herself, Elsie looked out the window as the trained departed the station. She could feel a heat suffuse her body at his unexpected words. Suddenly she felt quite unsteady and she didn't think it was because of the shaking of the train.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The walk from the house cleared his mind. Although he would never admit it to anyone but himself, he was thankful she had gone ahead of him. He really hadn't thought of what he would say to her. Mrs. Patmore had pushed him, made him see the error of his ways, but it didn't mean he knew what to do.

He knew what he wanted. He hoped she wanted the same. But how would he do it? What would he say or do? Something told him he needed to get this right, the first time. There had been so many chances he'd let slip through his hands with her.

The lovely day by the sea, she had reached out her hand and offered him a steadying touch. If only she knew he'd been anything but steady. Holding her hand had tilted his world on its axis. He wasn't sure he'd had a steady moment since.

But he'd let the moment pass. They returned to themselves once the walls of the Abbey surrounded them. There had been a few moments, here or there, where his carefully constructed walls slipped and she pushed past them. But then he would panic and push her away.

He smiled, thinking of those rare moments when he hadn't pushed her away. When he'd used his words to pull her closer. That day in his pantry when he'd told her how very much he didn't like being at odds with her. The pretty blush that had crossed her face, the way she'd chewed on her bottom lip. In that moment, he'd wanted nothing more than to pull her to him, kiss her, claim her.

He wanted more moments like that. He wanted to leave her breathless not just from his words but from his actions.

Looking up he realized he'd reached the town. Making his way quickly to the train station he bought his ticket and went in search of her. She wasn't on the platform. He panicked for a moment, had she gotten on the train still thinking he didn't want to travel with her.

He imagined her in a carriage, surrounded by strangers or worse, people from the village. The widowed green grocer who lingered talking with her after church too long. People that would distract her attention from him.

Frantically he searched the platform then each carriage one by one. His heart sped up when he saw her. Somehow she was in a carriage alone. She seemed so calm sitting by herself. She was watching people on the platform and he wondered, briefly, what she was thinking.

Cutting a path through the small crowd he reached for the handle of her carriage. As he opened the door her voice was cold, "I'm sorry all of these seats are taken."

His heart leapt. She had been saving him a seat. Even after his inconsiderate behavior she still wanted to travel with him. Had the roles been reversed she would have teased him, made fun of his autocratic behavior. Perhaps it was time he returned the favor.

He smiled at her, "Do you think you might squeeze one more person in? I'm not that big." He held up the cloth wrapped food, "And I have breakfast."

The blush that crept across her face made his heart beat faster. His smile widened as she looked away. "Please forgive me Mr. Carson."

He decided to push. It was rare he made her unsteady, "There's nothing to forgive Mrs. Hughes. Just tell me I can join you."

She nodded shyly, "You can always join me Mr. Carson. I saved the seats hoping you would."

He climbed into the carriage and promptly put his case away. He looked beside her and saw her case. There was an empty seat across from her but he didn't want to sit there. He motioned with his head to her case. She bit on her lower lip as she nodded for him to put it away, "Was there some reason you thought I might not want to join you?"

Raising her eyebrows at him, "As I recall Mr. Carson, you did say you preferred to travel alone."

The challenge in her look cemented his decision. He sat beside her, "Quite right Mrs. Hughes. But that was before I knew whose company I would be sharing. If my choices are travelling alone or travelling with you, I will always choose the latter."

She smiled at his words and looked out the window. He felt the train shudder as it moved away from the station. Despite the shaky nature of the train and the slight jostling it caused, he felt steadier than he had in months.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Elsie stared out the window not sure what to do next. She had hoped he would join her but she hadn't really thought past it to what they would actually do. Here they were, alone, for at least an hour.

He'd sat down next to her rather than across from her like she'd thought he would. She could feel the heat coming from his body. Or maybe the heat was coming from within. Either way, it was suddenly almost uncomfortably warm.

He watched her from the corner of his eye. She seemed unsettled. He straightened in his seat, somewhat proud that he'd unsettled her. She'd spent the past few 24 hours unsettling him, he liked returning the favor.

She was chewing on her lower lip, an endearing, nervous trait. He looked down to her lap and her hands were clasped together. He longed to put his hand over hers, calming their nervous movements. Equally, he would like to take her lower lip between his and soothe it. He wondered if it would be as soft as he'd imagined. Would she take his hands if he reached over? Would she kiss him back if he pressed his lips to hers? He shook his head, suddenly he felt much warmer.

Needing to do something to distract him from his sudden, unseemly thoughts he looked down at his own hands. There was the wrapped food Mrs. Patmore had given him before leaving the house. He opened the cloth then gently nudged Elsie, "Mrs. Hughes, would you like some toast and bacon?"

Turning back to him she smiled, "That would be nice Mr. Carson. I'm afraid Mrs. Patmore and Mr. Branson whisked me off so quickly I didn't have time for breakfast."

"I'm afraid it's gone cold and the toast is probably dry."

Elsie stood, moving to the basket across from them, "I suspect there's something in this basket to fix that last part." He watched her bustle around the basket. Having something to do seemed to relax her, which in turn relaxed him. He'd never been happier to have dry toast and cold bacon. "Mr. Carson, it's a bit warm do you mind if I take off my coat?"

He shook his head, "Not at all Mrs. Hughes." Setting the cloth on her seat, he stood behind her, "Let me help you." Years of training kept him from touching her. His hands carefully slid the coat down her arms and whisked it away from her body. A subtle scent filled the air. He couldn't quite place it, it wasn't the exotic scents he was accustomed to from the women upstairs. This was cleaner, familiar, comforting, enticing. He closed his eyes trying both to place it and to memorize it.

"Thank you Mr. Carson." She turned to smile at him and caught him standing still with his eyes closed. A smile she wasn't quite familiar with on his face. She watched him, wondering what had made him smile.

Hearing her voice he startled back to awareness, "I'm happy to do it Mrs. Hughes."

They looked at each other for a long moment. He broke the eye contact, turning to fold her coat. She took a deep breath, "I'll just see what Mrs. Patmore included to make our toast less dry."

Charles busied himself with folding her coat and placing it on the rack above their seats. He took his off and repeated the process. Finally he sat and picked up the cloth wrapped food again. His eyes were drawn to her as she rummaged through the basket. There seemed to be something different about her today. She looked very pretty in her skirt and blouse. He always liked what she wore out of her daily uniforms.

But it wasn't what she was wearing that was different. It was something else. Somehow she seemed softer. The material of her blouse seemed to flow around the contours of her body in a more fluid way.

She turned to him with a triumphant smile on her face. It was then he realized what was different. It wasn't her clothes that were more fluid, it was her body. The soft side to side movement of the train was making her, oh dear Lord, jiggle.

His entire body went slack. The cloth slipped from his hands spilling the toast and bacon onto the floor of the carriage. A flush of heat ripped through him as his eyes took in the sight of Elsie Hughes without a corset.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Mr. Carson, are you alright?" She set the small dish of jam back in to the basket. Her hand went to his shoulder."

He jolted, her touch was electricity through him. The scent from before suddenly seemed to surround him as her hand gripped his shoulder. It was a heady combination, "I'm sorry Mrs. Hughes; I'm not quite sure what came over me."

Noting his flushed complexion her other hand went to his forehead. This served to bring her closer. He closed his eyes fighting the urge to pull her into his lap, wrap his arms around her, kiss her, run his hands roughly over her curves. How was she having this effect on him?

"You don't seem to have a fever Mr. Carson, although you do look a bit flushed."

Calmly he placed his hand over hers pulling it from his head. Looking up at her he smiled, "I think I might just be hungry Mrs. Hughes, I didn't eat much last night." She smiled softly at him and he had to force himself not to sigh, "I'm afraid I just dropped our breakfast on the floor though. I'll hop off the train at the next stop and get something for both of us."

She squeezed his hand and smile brightly, "You'll do nothing of the sort you daft man. Mrs. Patmore has packed enough for an army." Nodding her head towards the toast and bacon. "Throw that out the window for the birds and I'll put something together for us."

"Thank you."

Turning back to the basket she laughed, "What on earth are you thanking me for? Mrs. Patmore packed the basket."

"For not being angry that I've spoiled our breakfast."

Her laughter filled the carriage, "What's to be angry about, dropping some dry toast and cold bacon? I suspect there's much better fare in this basket. You might have done us a favor."

He joined her in her laughter as he leaned over to pick up the toast and bacon. Kneeling to the floor of the carriage brought him eye to eye with her bottom at the same moment she bent over slightly, pulling her skirt tighter. He groaned. He saw her look back at him and he pretended it was just his knees aching. Picking up the toast he tossed it out the window. A few deep breaths from the open window and the cooler air served to calm his nerves and his thoughts.

As his pulse slowed he thought about the long ride, he almost hoped someone joined them at the next station. If she was able to distract him this much in such a short space of time, what shape would he be in by the time they reached London?

He looked back at her and his pulse sped up once again. _This is what you wanted Charles. Why fight it?_

She turned back to him handing him a plate full of items from the kitchen at Downton. She held a second plate, not quite as full, for herself. He reached to take it from her, "Let me hold this while you get settled."

With a teasing smile she relinquished the second plate, "Are you sure I can trust you Mr. Carson?"

Lowering his head, he blushed. He heard her skirt rustling as she sat and looked down at her. As he handed her the plate he met her eyes, "I hope you know you can trust me with your life Mrs. Hughes."

It was her turn to blush. Looking down at her plate she bit her lower lip, "I did know it Mr. Carson, but it's lovely to hear you say it." Pleased with himself Charles sat beside her and they started to eat.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Another first for our lovely couple.**

They ate in silence, enjoying the side to side jostling of the train. Charles found it hard not to stare at her. The only way he could keep his focus so as not to embarrass himself was to focus solely on his plate and the food she'd prepared for him.

As she finished, Elsie looked carefully at Charles and was surprised to see he'd eaten everything on his plate. Hiding a smile she looked over at him, "Would you like some more Mr. Carson?"

He shook his head, "Oh I couldn't. I wouldn't want to short us."

Taking his plate she stood, "Don't be silly, Mr. Carson. Mrs. Patmore has packed enough for a week away. Plus she arranged for more to be delivered in the morning. I don't think we'll starve if you have seconds."

Looking up at her focusing solely on her eyes, a broad smile on his face, he nodded, "In that case Mrs. Hughes, I will have seconds."

Elsie moved to the basket and began adding things to his plate. She reflected on their brief period on the train. She wasn't sure what had happened but he seemed more relaxed. Perhaps being more relaxed might make her next question easier.

Turning back to him she handed him the plate. She waited until he started eating, "Mr. Carson, I was thinking." She paused, taking a deep breath. He looked up from his plate and smiled, "It's just, since it will just be the two of us for the next few days, perhaps we could call each other by our given names?"

He stopped chewing looking at her in surprise. His heart beating so loudly he was certain she could hear it. How had he not thought of what they would call one another? He'd thought of her as Elsie in his head for so long. He wondered how her name would feel on his lips.

"If you don't want to Mr. Carson, I'll understand."

Swallowing the bite in his mouth, almost whole, he choked a bit before forcing it down. "No, Mrs. Hughes…Elsie. I'd like that."

Smiling she nodded, "I'd like that too…Charles."

Her brogue seemed to deepen as it caressed his name. A shiver of excitement rushed through him. He didn't want to lose it, "Elsie, perhaps, that is if you don't mind, we could continue to use our given names, when it's just the two of us? Regardless of where we are?"

She hadn't expected him to be as accepting of her plan. A frisson of an emotion she couldn't name ran through her. Twice he'd made her feel quite unsteady. She wasn't sure what had happened to him last night but something had changed.

Panic filled him when she didn't respond. Perhaps he had pushed too hard. Maybe she was just suggesting the name because they would be alone. Perhaps she only intended to dispense with the formality while they were in London. "Elsie, Mrs. Hughes, I'm sorry if I was too forward."

She stepped forward, her hand reaching out to him touching his lightly. "No, Charles, I was just surprised you were so amenable to the idea. I would like very much if you would call me Elsie, when we're alone."

Gazing into her eyes he couldn't help but smile, "Good, I like when we are in agreement Elsie."

Realizing she was touching him, she moved to take his plate. She returned his smile a flush of color spread across her cheeks, "So you've told me Charles." She lifted the plate slightly, "Would you like some more?"

Placing a hand on his stomach he shook his head, "I've had more than enough. Thank you."

She dusted the crumbs from their plates out the window, "I've told you. There's no need to thank me Charles, all I did was fill a few plates. Mrs. Patmore did all of the hard work."

He watched her economical movements. She seemed somehow less comfortable when he complimented her. He knew partly it was her way, to deflect compliments. Then he wondered if it was her way or if she was just so uncertain of his compliments. Had he somehow made her doubt her own abilities?

"Elsie." He waited until she looked at him, "Mrs. Patmore might have packed the basket but I suspect it was your idea."

Looking away from him she smiled, biting nervously on her lower lip, "It was at that." She turned away putting the plates back into the basket. "Though, I didn't expect her to put together quite this much."

"Elsie, thank you. It was a brilliant idea."

Sitting beside him, her eyes locked on her hands grasped tightly in her lap, "Thank you Charles."

"For what Elsie?"

"That was quite possibly the nicest compliment you've ever paid me."

His heart fell as her words filled the carriage. He had done this to her. "Perhaps while we are in London, I can remedy that Elsie." They settled into a companionable silence as the train continued its path to London.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

They rode in silence for a while longer. The side to side motion of the train moving them slowly closer together. Their arms were touching, brushing each time the train moved. A delightful friction neither of them wanted to lose.

Elsie looked away as if she was contemplating the countryside. In fact, she was savoring the lingering touch between them. She was afraid to speak, afraid it might break the spell that seemed to be woven around them. His acceptance of her proposal to use their Christian names had surprised her. That he'd gone further and suggested they do it whenever alone was thrilling.

The feel of his name on her lips had been exhilarating. She hadn't meant to roll the R in his name quite so much, it had just happened. Smiling to herself she remembered her name on his lips. He'd seemed hesitant at first but then more natural. Each time he'd said it a flutter coursed through her. Somehow it seemed to get warmer in their carriage each time she remembered him saying her name.

Charles was distracted by her arm touching his. Every brush against him sent a shockwave throughout his body that settled lower each time. He watched her from the corner of his eye, smiling as she looked out the window. He wondered what she was thinking about. The smile was soft, almost whimsical. What he wouldn't give to be the source of her smile?

His own version of her smile appeared on his face when he remembered her saying his name. Her brogue had been more pronounced. Her tongue lingering over the R just a fraction longer than usual. He wondered if it was deliberate or just incidental. Would there be times she would drag it out more?

Oh dear God he had to stop those thoughts. But the more he tried to stop, the more he thought. What would his name sound like whispered in his ear? Screamed out in a moment of passion?

Abruptly he stood, Elsie looking up at him questioningly. Brusquely he explained, "It's a bit warm in here. Do you mind if I open the window a bit?" He looked down at her, seeing the concern on her face, she was biting her lip. Instantly he softened, "Do you mind, Elsie?"

Shaking her head she bit harder on her lip, a half smile playing on her face, "I think it's an excellent idea. I'm a bit warm myself."

He nodded slightly then moved to the window. He pushed it open before leaning against it and looking back to her, "What is your plan, Elsie?" Her eyes opened impossibly wide at his question, mind racing with the implications. Seeing her expression he realized what his question must have sounded like to her. He sputtered, "I meant what's your plan for inventorying the house."

Her pulse raced at the possible implication of his question. She laughed in an attempt to release the tenseness in her body. She chose the simplest of the possible answers, "I'll go through all of the linens for both the upstairs and downstairs. I believe most of the upstairs linens will need to be replaced. However, they are more than serviceable for downstairs use. The downstairs ones will likely be gotten rid of. It would be nice to find a worthwhile charity to donate them to. Once that's complete I will need to inform her ladyship of what's to be ordered. It won't make much sense to order from our usual supplier in Ripon so I shall have to find someone here in London. I suppose I will have to visit a few suppliers to make a decision. After that I want to put together a rota for cleaning the house. Her ladyship and I talked about possibly hiring a service to come in to do it with me supervising. Of course, that will have to be another trip probably as we get closer to the season."

He watched her as she shared her plans with him in awe, as always, of her. She made it seem so effortless. Everything was carefully thought through, planned to be efficient and sensible. For others he'd worked with it had seemed a struggle to plan things with such precision. For her, it was like breathing.

"Charles, are you listening?" He blinked staring at her for a moment, "Are you feeling well?"

"Never better Elsie."

Looking up at him she raised a single eyebrow, "It's only that's twice today you've seemed to get lost in your thoughts." She patted the seat next to her, "Perhaps you should sit down and rest. I promise I won't tell if you were to take a nap."

Walking to her he sat, "I must say I wasn't tired until I heard your plans, that's quite the undertaking. I grew weary just hearing about it."

She laughed at his gentle teasing, "I'm Scottish Charles." That time the rolling of the R was deliberate, "We're made of sterner stuff."

"Indeed. I was thinking, while you were telling me your plans. Would you mind some company while you visit potential suppliers?"

Tilting her head to look at him, her lips curling into a small smile, "I don't know Charles, would my company be part of an obligation?"

Looking down at her mischievous smile it took everything in him not to pull her into a kiss. He shook his head, "No, Elsie it would be a pleasure."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Elsie stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. Their eyes locked. Elsie's mouth was dry, her heart pounded. She swallowed, trying to bring some moisture to her mouth, "Charles…"

Seeing what seemed to be panic on her face, Charles looked away, "I'm sorry Mrs. Hughes. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Turning back to her hoping his apology would have calmed her, he was surprised to find her close to tears, "Mrs. Hughes…" He reached out and softly touched her arm.

Elsie looked down at his hand on her arm. Before he could pull his hand away she covered it with her own. A single tear landed on her hand. "Charles, you don't need to apologize. I'm sorry for overreacting. I'm not used to such kind words…" She looked up at him, "from you."

Her blue eyes brimming with tears made his heart stop. He'd caused this pain, "Mrs. Hughes…" He saw her wince at his words, then remembered their decision to use their given names, "Elsie, have I been that awful to you?"

She smiled sadly, "No, Charles. You've not been awful." She smiled bigger, "Well not generally. You are a very kind man."

"Just not always to you?"

Elsie squeezed his hand, "You do seem to be somewhat harsher with me than others."

Turning his hand in hers, he wrapped it around hers. His thumb brushed the soft skin of her hand, "I don't know why I do it Elsie. I promise I will be better in the future."

Looking down at their hands she smiled. Hers seemed so small in his. Where his thumb traced across her skin was a line of fire. Tightening her fingers around his she looked back up at him, "I know you will Charles."

It was Charles' turn to look at their joined hands. He never wanted to break this contact. In his life, it was his job to not touch people. He'd made a lifetime's study of serving others without ever laying hands on them. However, as she'd looked up at him, eyes filled with unshed tears all of his training left him. Before he'd known what he was doing his hand was on her arm.

He'd thought she would push him away. Covering his hand with her own had been the last thing he'd expected. Again his hand had worked without his brain when it turned in hers and closed around it. All of this had happened before he was even aware he was holding her hand. It wasn't until she'd squeezed his that he was aware.

The most intimate thing to happen to him in well over a decade, longer if he was honest, and he hadn't been aware it was happening until he was in the middle of it. He wondered what power she held over him which allowed her to push past all of his training and touch him in such an innocent fashion.

The first time he'd held her hand it was because she'd almost dared him to do it. This time he'd initiated the contact, without thinking. His only thought had been to comfort her and touch had been his chosen method.

She watched him stare at their hands, seemingly lost. His touch on her hand was sending shockwaves up her arm. Theirs was not a tactile relationship. In the decades she had known him she could count on both hands the number of times they had purposefully touched. Most of those were initiated by her, a gentle shove to move him when he was about to lose his temper, a calming hand on his arm, a handful of times she'd held his arm in bad weather. Even at the seaside the previous summer he'd only held her hand because she'd teased him.

Yet this time, he'd reached for her. Laid his hand on her arm because he thought she was upset. He had no way of knowing her tears were those of joy at his beautiful words. It wasn't often she was rendered speechless. She prided herself on possessing a quick wit. But twice today his words had been so kind, so honest, so revealing he'd taken her breath away.

His hand, gently squeezing hers, made her smile. She shifted her hand, twining their fingers together and was rewarded with a sigh from him, "Elsie, if I am ever awful to you again, promise to remind me of this very moment. I don't ever want to forget it."

It was her turn to sigh as she gently squeezed his hand, "I promise Charles. I don't ever want to forget this moment either."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**Sorry for the long delay. There was a death in the family and I've been away for the funeral. Hopefully I will be back to updating daily from now forward.**

They sat, side by side, lost in the quiet beauty of the moment. Without either of them noticing, they had leaned into one another. The contact between them ran from their hands to their shoulders. It was no longer incidental contact from the train brushing them together.

Charles continued to stare at their intertwined hands. He was mesmerized by the softness of her skin. He hadn't known what he wanted until he'd touched her. When he'd felt her hand on his it was as if everything in his life crystallized.

Perhaps it was the suddenness of physical contact or maybe it was simply that his first instinct to comfort her had been touch. Whichever it was, he knew he couldn't go the rest of his life without touching her. It was only his years of training and his sense of propriety that kept him from pulling her into his arms.

He wondered what she would do if he wrapped his arm around her. Would she tuck into his embrace or push him away, appalled at his forwardness? As much as he wanted to feel her warmth closer to him he couldn't risk scaring her.

His fingers tightened around hers as he suppressed his desire to hold her. He blinked once as he smiled to himself, finally putting a word to his feelings. Desire, something he'd thought long suppressed. This beautiful creature next to him surfaced all of those long-forgotten urges.

Her smell surrounded him. He inhaled, savoring it, her scent both calmed and tempted him. Closing his eyes he tried to place the smell. There were so many individual components. However, when he tried to put a word to any of them, the word would flitter away and he was once again overwhelmed with the whole. Much like the woman sitting next to him, her scent was too complex for him to fathom.

A soft touch to his arm pulled him from his reverie. He looked down at her realizing it was her head touching his arm, the gentle jostling of the train had lulled her to sleep. Without thinking he lowered his head and gently kissed the top of her head.

The scent of her filled his senses as his nose brushed against her hair. All efforts to define the individual scents vanished as his mind finally put a word to the whole. He smiled, nuzzling his nose closer, letting the scent overtake him. The single word echoed in his mind as her scent possessed him, "_Home."_


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**Thanks for your kind words. My family is doing well, life goes on**

Elsie slowly woke up. She blinked trying to remember where she was. There was an unfamiliar warmness surrounding her. It wasn't unpleasant, in fact if she thought about it, there was something comforting and safe about it.

Looking down she saw their hands, still intertwined. His, so much larger, engulfed hers. She could feel the power in his hand yet there was a tenderness as it held hers that comforted her. Tenderness, wrapped in power seemed to describe Charles Carson best.

She pressed her lips together stifling a laugh. He would scoff at her thoughts, preferring to think he was strong, stalwart even powerful in his own right. The idea of tenderness being his true source of power, at least to her, would never occur to him.

It was in those moments when he had shown such great heart she was most drawn to him. He could never know how her heart melted when he let his tender side show. Oh, there was something tempting about him when he was fully in command and in his element. She often found she couldn't take her eyes off him in those moments.

However, it was in the quiet moments, when she'd caught him unaware, where she had to stop herself from pulling him to her, telling him how much she loved him, wanted him, needed him. She remembered the day in his pantry when he'd told her how much he hated not being in agreement with her. There had been a vulnerability on his face she'd never seen before.

She'd told him statements such as those made her want to check her hair. If he'd only known why she'd said it. As the words had left his mouth all she could think of was pulling him to her, of him pushing her back against the wall. His hands wound into her hair as he pulled her head back and kissed her. A kiss filled with want and need, all teeth and tongue, there hadn't been anything tender in her mind. It had been filled with passion, want, need, desire.

Her eyes closed, remembering the flush of heat which had washed over her. Then she'd looked into his eyes filled with heart breaking tenderness and she knew if she hadn't already been in love with him she would have fallen for him. In a way, she had fallen for him all over again.

Hearing his breathing change she dared a look up. Shifting slightly she knew why she was so warm. Somehow, perhaps in his sleep, Charles had shifted allowing her to curl into his body. Her side was tucked neatly into him. Her head had probably been resting on his chest before she woke. His head rested against the carriage wall lolling slightly downward as if he'd been watching her sleep.

The thought of him watching her sleep thrilled her. It was such an intimate act much like this whole train ride had been. He'd touched her, reached for her, when he'd thought she was upset. It had never happened before. Any physical contact between them had always been initiated by her.

When she'd covered his hand with hers, she'd expected him to pull away. Instead he'd turned his hands in hers, holding it to him. He'd sighed when she laced their fingers together. Now as he slept, he seemed to hold her hand even tighter and yet the tenderness was still there.

Shifting slowly she looked up at him. His face was relaxed, a small smile playing across his lips. Her heart leapt, wondering what he was smiling about. His lips pursed slightly, drawing her eye. Another thing Mr. Carson never knew was how often his lips distracted her. For years she'd watched those lips, imagining what they would feel like. Would they be soft, dry, warm, wet? They had filled her with visions which left her shaking with need. Dreams which woke her, sweating, panting, wanting.

Without thinking her free hand reached up. Her thumb traced across his lips, her fingers cupped his cheek. A quiet sigh escaped as what she'd done registered. Her hand froze. Should she pull it away quickly or slowly lower her hand? She didn't want to startle him, didn't want him to wake and find her hand cradling his face.

Indecision battled within her. Charles' lips parted slightly, his tongue pushing out, wetting his lips. She felt it touch her thumb, warm and wet. Her heart stopped then raced wildly. Pulling her hand from his face she absently traced her own lips with her thumb. Her eyes were fixed still on his mouth, a little tip of tongue just visible.

As if drawn by an unknown force she straightened herself, moving herself closer to his lips. Her hand rested on his chest, feeling his heart beat steadily under it. She was almost to his lips, could feel the warmth of his breath on her face when a piercing sound filled the air.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Startled she pulled back, her heart raced. She felt the train slow as it pulled into the station. Her eyes turned back to him hoping he was still asleep. She breathed a sigh of relief to see him still sleeping peacefully.

Looking to the platform she realized their time alone was likely limited. There were decidedly more people standing on the platform here than in Downton. She looked at their hands realizing they would have to let go of one another when they were joined in the carriage.

A quick glance around the carriage and she knew a few things would need to be moved. As gently as possible she moved her hand. She wanted to move the basket without waking him. As her fingers traced down his hand his grip tightened, "Where do you think you are going?"

She chewed on her lip, "I thought I would move the basket and I didn't want to disturb you."

Softening his grip on her hand, his fingers traced a pattern on her skin, "Why do you need to move the basket?" She looked down at their hands, distracted by the sensations created by his fingers, "Elsie, why do you need to move the basket?"

Gently pulling her hand from his, trying to regain some sense of herself she stood. "There are more people at this station. I don't think we will get lucky enough to have a carriage to ourselves."

Staring at his hand, he mourned the loss of her touch. Charles glanced out the windows, taking in the people milling around. He stood, moving to Elsie, "Elsie, let me get that." He covered her hand on the basket.

"Don't be silly Charles, I am perfectly capable…"

The train stopped suddenly throwing Elsie off balance. Charles released the basket his arms wrapped around her pulling her to him, steadying her. He looked down at her, mesmerized. Her hand rested on his chest. "Elsie, are you OK?"

"I'm fine Charles, the train just made me a bit unsteady."

Tightening his grip on her waist, "Are you steady now?"

Elsie blinked, thinking to herself she was anything but steady. Her fingers flexed across his chest, the heat from his body along with something else made her want to bury her head in his chest. Over the years she'd grown accustomed to his cologne, the pomade he used in his hair, even the smell of silver polish. All of those scents were Charles Carson.

Being this close to him, being held in his arms there was a new scent. Something she couldn't define. It made her dizzy, giddy. She breathed deeply, filling her senses with him, her eyes closed trying to memorize everything about this morning. She felt his voice before she heard it, "Elsie are you sure you're alright?"

Shaking her head slightly she smiled up at him, "Yes Charles, never better."

"You didn't hurt yourself?"

"No, I have a guardian angel who kept me from falling."

He raised his eyebrows smiling at her teasing, "Well I did make a promise to keep you safe."

"I don't believe I've ever felt quite so safe."

Charles blushed, "I think that might be the nicest compliment you've ever given me Elsie."

Her hand slid up his chest touching the bare skin of his neck, "Perhaps while we are in London, I can remedy that Charles."

Their eyes locked. Her thumb lightly stroking his neck. Charles' hand spread out on her lower back seeking her heat. She pushed up, sliding her body against him. He lowered his head, drawn to her. The lengths of their bodies were perfectly aligned. Their breaths mingled, mouths less than an inch apart. His eyes closed, hers open, fixed on his lips.

"Excuse me, is there space in this carriage?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**I may just keep them on the train forever...**

She felt him exhale angrily. His eyes opened locking on hers. The thunderous look in his eyes almost made her laugh. The rumble from his chest vibrated against her hand, "Bloody hell."

She tried to keep the amused glint from her eyes. Her hand slid down his chest, stroking him. He looked down at her hand as it moved down his body and found his hand. His anger dissipated. He squeezed her hand before turning to the basket. As he lifted it he forced a smile, "We have room for a few people."

Smiling up at him she squeezed his hand in return. As the people climbed into the carriage she released his hand and returned to her seat. Charles moved the basket to the other side of her then took his seat beside her.

They watched the other passengers settle in across from them. After the man settled the last of their belongings in the rack above the seats he doffed his hat at them, "Good morning. Our apologies for pushing into your carriage but everywhere else was full."

Elsie could feel Charles tense beside her, "There's no need to apologize. I don't think either us expected to have a carriage to ourselves all the way to London."

The man smiled at her, "So you're headed to London too?"

Charles groaned beside her. She hid her smile as she nodded, "Yes, London is our destination."

The man opened his mouth to continue his conversation but his wife placed her hand on his arm, "Arthur, there's no need to talk their ears off."

He looked back at his wife, "I'm just trying to be friendly."

She smiled at him, "I know dear, but not everyone is quite as chatty early in the morning."

"I'm only chatty because I'm excited." He turned back to Elsie, "We're going to London to visit our daughter. She's just had her first child, our first grandchild, a boy."

Elsie smiled, "Congratulations. It must be very exciting for you."

He nodded, a huge smile splitting his face, "Very, we only ever had girls. It will be nice to have a boy." He paused for a moment, "Do you and your husband have any children?"

Elsie swallowed, not really sure how to answer the question. She clenched her hands tightly in her lap. Charles reached over placing his hand over hers, "No, we haven't any children."

She looked back at him both relieved and concerned by his answer. His small smile and gentle squeeze of her hand settled her.

The couple across from them exchanged their own looks. The wife shook her head discouraging further conversation. Her husband finally understand, "Well I think I might take a nap. I want to be rested when we get to London. I hope you won't mind."

Charles and Elsie both shook their heads. Charles withdrew his hand. The carriage returned to silence.

Charles watched her from the corner of his eye. He played the moment from earlier back in his mind. Having her in his arms had felt right. All of the unsteadiness had disappeared when he'd pulled her to him. He would have kissed her, pressed his lips to hers; tasted her. He wondered if she would have let him. The memory of her hand on his neck made him believe she would have welcomed a kiss.

He wanted to touch her again. He'd placed his hand over hers when the man had asked if they had children. He wasn't sure what the man may have seen and thought it was best not to give him a story. The look she'd given him concerned him. Was she upset that he'd answered? Was she upset that he'd taken her hand?

Elsie chewed on her lip. Charles Carson had almost kissed her. But for the couple across from them he would have. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted much more than a kiss. Then he'd taken her hand, answered the man's question. His answer had upset her. She knew they didn't have children of their own but she thought of so many of the young men and women who'd come through the house as theirs. Of course he didn't feel the same. He only thought of the family as his family. Not her and certainly not their charges over the years.

She felt him tense beside her. Glancing over she could see he was uneasy. Was he regretting his actions? Did he regret almost kissing her? Would he retreat now? She needed to know but it wasn't as if she could just ask him. Looking down she saw his hand. It sat on the bench between them. She was concerned he would retreat further if she took his hand.

Standing, an idea occurred to her. Reaching to her bag she retrieved her book. She smiled down at him and was saddened by the pained smile he gave her. As she returned to her seat she flounced her skirt a bit covering his hand. When he didn't move his hand she slid hers beneath her skirt.

Charles watched her stand to retrieve her book. He could hardly return her smile. She would rather read than speak with him. This was her answer, she hadn't wanted him. He looked away as she returned to her seat. He was barely aware when her skirt softly covered his hand. However, her gentle touch across his hand drew his attention.

Looking down at her he smiled as she looked up at him. She was chewing on her lower lip. What he wouldn't give to take her lower lips between his teeth. To nip at it softly before sucking it into his mouth. Turning his hand slightly he laced their fingers together. Her sigh was music to his ears.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

They rode in silence. Each taking it in turns to surreptitiously look at the other through the corner of their eye. Elsie had attempted to read her book only to realize she needed both hands for that particular task. Looking down at their hands covered by her skirt she knew she didn't want to read if it meant letting go of his hand.

Setting her book to the side she settled into her seat and tightened her fingers around his. His corresponding squeeze made her smile. She watched the couple across from them, wondering if they had gone another way if it might be them on their way to visit a new grandchild. He was the only man she would ever have wanted that life with.

Perhaps one day they would have a grandchild. Not one of their own flesh and blood, of course, but of a sort. The Bates' would hopefully one day be blessed with a child. She secretly hoped for a little boy, she couldn't imagine how protective Mr. Bates would be with a girl. The idea of a small version of Anna almost brought tears to her eyes, perhaps there would be two, one of each.

And little Miss Sybbie, so much like her mother. Elsie thought of Tom like a son. She wondered if anyone in the house knew how frequently he brought Miss Sybbie down to see her. How he would often meet her on her half days with the child in tow. It was their secret and one she happily kept. What would Charles think?

Her brow furrowed, he would disapprove, call her sentimental. It was possible he might even condemn her actions. He had never approved of Tom, found him wanting, unworthy of the youngest Crawley daughter. She knew he felt some kinship with the child though. But still he would not approve of Tom treating her as a surrogate grandmother to the child, especially with a real live grandmother just up the stairs. No, this was one secret she would continue to keep.

He watched her, smiling to himself as she tried to read the book. She'd been so clever putting her skirt over his hand. It allowed him to touch her. He wouldn't have done it out in the open. He'd taken her hand earlier to stop her worrying. It had been instinctual. He'd seen her worry when the man had asked if they had children.

Children would have been nice, with her. He might have thought of marrying Alice but it wasn't until he'd met Elsie he'd ever really thought about children. Girls, blue eyed, auburn haired girls, he'd imagined they would have her brogue. They would have been able to wrap him around their little fingers just as easily as she could.

He'd observed her over the years. She minded the downstairs like a mother. Some of them she was closer to than others. But all of them, even the unworthy ones like Barrow and Miss O'Brien, she cared for. She would have been an excellent mother, she was an excellent mother. In a way, it made him the father. Perhaps they didn't have the blue eyed, auburn haired girls he'd dreamed of so often but they did have a family.

A squeeze to his hand broke his thoughts. He looked down at her, her brow furrowed. He wondered what she was thinking, what was causing her such consternation. Leaning forward he whispered to her, "Penny for them."

She laughed, "I'm not sure they're worth that much Mr. Carson."

"Back to Mr. Carson are we?"

She flicked her eyes to the other couple, both sound asleep, "We agreed to use our names when we are alone."

"Elsie, I don't think they care what we call one another. They think we're married."

She blinked, was Charles Carson flirting? Looking into his eyes she was certain he was flirting. Casting her eyes to the other couple, "Well if we're a married couple why are we sitting so far apart?"

Charles followed her eyes. The other couple were curled into each other. The man's arm was protectively wrapped around her. It reminded him of how they'd been earlier. He looked back to Elsie her eyes sparkling mischievously, "How much closer would you suggest?"

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, what was he about? She shifted toward him, pushing their hands tighter between them, "I think this is better."

Charles turned their hands creating more space between them, "I'm not sure you are close enough."

"Perhaps you can tell me how close is close enough."

He edged closer to her, their hands trapped between them. "I think this will do Elsie…for now."

Elsie looked away not sure whether to laugh or blush. Charles watched her. It wasn't often he put Elsie Hughes on her back foot, she was even more lovely when she was flustered, "Elsie, I have a question to ask." Looking up at him she nodded, "While we are in London, perhaps we could relax the hours we work."

"Charles are you suggesting we slack off while we are away?"

"No, I was just…"

She watched him marveling at how easy it was to fluster him. Her heart melted thinking how handsome he was in this moment. She squeezed his hand, "Charles, I was teasing you. I think it's an excellent idea."

He tried to look angry but found he couldn't, "You enjoy teasing me a bit too much Elsie."

Rolling her eyes she laughed lightly, "Not nearly as much as you enjoy being teased Charles."

Charles smiled before leaning over to whisper in her ear, "Do you suppose Mrs. Hughes…Elsie, that I will ever get the last word in?"

His warm breath on her neck sent a shiver down her back. Unconsciously she leaned into him, imagining she felt his lips on her skin. His intake of breath warmed her in places she'd thought long dormant. Tilting her head until she felt his forehead touching her she whispered back, "Something to look forward to Charles."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**This is the last chapter on the train. Next we head to Grantham House.**

A comfortable silence settled between them. Neither wanted to speak in case they ruined this moment. They each wondered what would happen when they made it to London.

Elsie was concerned once they made it to Grantham House would Charles retreat once they were surrounded by all of the reminders of the family. Was it possible their closeness was because there was nothing around to remind him of the Crawley's? Is it what had allowed him to let his walls down?

They had flirted, almost kissed. Even now they were touching, holding hands, their legs pressed together. She had felt his breath on her neck. His voice had been so close to her ear, she'd felt it vibrate through her.

She smiled to herself at his recommendation they relax their work hours. It was rare he surprised her. Her plan was to suggest the same thing to him. She'd expected he would argue with her, pretend to put up a fight before ultimately giving in. Not in her wildest dreams had she imagined he would suggest it.

Charles closed his eyes while taking a deep breath. His senses filled with her. He'd stopped trying to place the individual notes of her fragrance, they weren't important. All he cared about was her. He knew he'd unsettled her by suggesting they relax their working hours. She teased him the most when she was surprised.

In truth, he liked taking her by surprise. Her color would rise slightly when it happened. He lived for those moments. Pulling himself a bit straighter, he smiled.

She'd felt him shift beside her and watched him out of the corner of her eye. There was a smugness about him. She rolled her eyes knowing what he was smug about. He knew he'd surprised her, surprises could go both ways.

"Charles, what do you propose we do with our free time if we relax our work hours?"

Charles' eyes opened, "Well I hadn't really thought of anything specifically. Was there something you had in mind?"

"It hadn't occurred to me. I assumed we would be working our normal hours." She watched him preen thinking he had thought of something she hadn't. "There are plenty of books at Grantham House. It might be nice to spend some leisurely time reading books we don't regularly have access to." She fought a smile as he deflated a bit. "It might also be nice to sleep in a bit. I might even go to bed early. It would be quite luxurious to go to bed before I am exhausted and to wake naturally."

Charles swallowed, all he could think about now was her in bed. There was something about the word luxurious which was provocative. His mind went into overdrive thinking about her in bed. Suddenly her hand pressed against his leg was warmer than he thought possible. A trail of heat ran up his leg. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, needing space but not wanting to move.

"Charles, do you have any ideas of what we might do with our free time?"

Images of her in bed, not alone, ran through his mind. "Hmm, I didn't have anything in mind."

She could see his discomfort and decided to push him, just a bit. "It's just since you suggested something which will give us more free time I thought you must have some idea of what you would like to do. Or perhaps you didn't mean us. If you have plans on your own…"

He squeezed her hand, "No, I don't have any plans. I was thinking, hoping, perhaps we could do something, together."

Elsie bit her lip, the word together somehow seemed provocative. Together, it seemed to have a new meaning. She shouldn't think about such things. All of her career she'd cautioned the young women in her charge against physical relationships with men. Warned them about the possible repercussions. Of course, those repercussions weren't an issue for them.

His hand felt warmer against her leg. When he squeezed her hand flutters erupted in her stomach, "Doing something together would be nice Charles."

"Would you perhaps consider leaving it to me to plan?"

Looking up at him she smiled, "As I don't really know much about London, I guess I will have to place myself in your very capable hands."

His eyes locked on hers, "Something to look forward to."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**Short chapter - had a few things to work out so decided to write a purely fluffy transition chapter. I hope it won't disappoint.**

They were quiet throughout the remainder of the train ride. Each was lost in their own thoughts. Their companions woke as the train pulled into the station. Charles squeezed Elsie's hand and smiled sweetly down at her.

"I feel like we need to apologize for sleeping for the whole journey."

Elsie smiled at Charles, "It's OK, we understand you want to be well-rested for your new arrival."

"Do you have plans while you're in London?"

Elsie looked back at Charles, not quite sure how to answer. He squeezed her hand again, "Yes, we have plans."

"Well enjoy your stay."

Elsie smiled back at Charles, "I'm sure we will."

The husband was standing, pulling their bags from overhead, as the train stopped. He opened the door hopping lightly out the door. His wife smiled back at Charles and Elsie, "Please forgive my husband, he's very excited."

Elsie smiled thinking how excited she would be seeing Anna's first child, "There's nothing to forgive. Enjoy your time with your grandchild."

The woman returned Elsie's smile, "You enjoy your time in London."

The man helped his wife from the train carriage and they were gone. Charles stood and removed Elsie's coat from the overhead rack, "Elsie, can I help you on with your coat?"

Turning her back to him, she smiled over her shoulder, "Thank you Charles."

Charles guided the coat up her arms before letting it rest gently on her shoulders. He paused for only a moment as he overrode his training and allowed his hands to rest on her shoulders. A contented smile played across his face as she leaned into him for just a moment.

Elsie's eyes closed when she felt the warmth from his hands on her shoulders. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to relax into his body. She thought how wonderful it would feel to have his arms wrapped around her. The sounds from outside of the carriage were the only thing that kept her from turning in his arms and pulling him closer. Instead she lifted her hand and covered one of his, "I guess we best be off."

"Hmmm," He hummed next to her ear. "I suppose we must. Let me get our things then I will help you down."

She nodded, shifting out of his way so he could get their things. He set their cases near the door then hefted the basket and stepped easily from the carriage. Placing the basket on the ground, he reached in and took their cases. At last he looked up at her and offered his hand, "Milady."

She smiled at him, rolling her eyes as she took his hand, "I'm not sure about the milady part but thank you all the same."

"You're always a lady to me Elsie."

A pretty blush swept up her neck as she reached for her bag. He tried to stop her, "Don't be silly Charles. That basket is heavy enough for two people. I'll not have you injure yourself trying to be chivalrous."

"Would you take care of me?" He smiled when he saw her odd look, "If I injured myself? Would you take care of me?"

A single arched eyebrow challenged him, "Haven't I always?"

"Yes, even when I might not have deserved it."

Picking up her case she started walking, "Then you have your answer Charles."

Running to catch up with her he leaned over, "It might almost be worth it, Mrs. Hughes." She stopped walking looking at him to gauge his mood. He passed her, a smug expression on his face, "The taxi stand is this way, Elsie."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

They found a taxi quickly and were on their way to Grantham House within minutes. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell between them. Elsie fidgeted feeling Charles' discomfort grow. She closed her eyes, all of her worst fears coming to life. He was withdrawing. The closer they got to the house the further he pulled away.

She supposed it was inevitable. They couldn't stay on the train forever. Perhaps when, if, they went out he would relax again. She wouldn't push him, it would only drive him further away. Shaking her head, trying to clear away the lovely train ride, she thought to herself, "_It couldn't last."_

He watched her, there was an uneasiness about her he hadn't seen since they left Downton. Had he pushed her too far, made her uncomfortable? He'd thought he was flirting the same amount she was. What could he do to fix this? They had come so far on the train ride.

Before he could decide what to do the taxi pulled up to Grantham House. He looked at her trying to think of something to say. All of the things he'd said on the train had come so easily. Now he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

The driver opened the door and Charles got out. He turned back to her, offering his hand, "Welcome to Grantham House, milady."

Taking his hand smiling shyly, "Thank you."

He helped her from the car, his hand lightly touching her waist, steadying her as she stepped from the car. "Are you OK Elsie?"

"I think so, now."

He tightened his hand on her waist. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, longer to say to her. As she looked up at him all words fell away, he wished he could stay in this moment staring at her for the rest of his life.

"Mr. Carson, always a pleasure to see you in the area."

Charles closed his eyes fighting a curse. He opened his eyes and met hers, a silent apology filled his eyes and he prayed she could read his expression. Releasing her he took a step back, putting a significant distance between them. He turned away from her, placing his body between her and the man rapidly approaching them, "Mr. Henderson, I didn't expect you in London at this time of year."

"The family is having some work done to the house, where else would I be? What brings you to the area?"

Charles jaw tightened, "Much the same and I really should be getting on with it."

"Come on Carson, surely you've time for a quick pint."

"Mr. Carson, if you would like to go out with your friend, I can get started on my own."

He turned to her, still trying to block her, "No Mrs. Hughes." He reached into his pocket pulling keys from it. He pressed them into her hand, "If you'd like to go ahead, I'll only be a moment."

Taken a bit off guard she took the keys, she squeezed his hand, letting him know she was there if he needed her. He smiled down at her hoping he hadn't offended her. Her return smile relaxed him.

"Did I detect a bit of a Scottish brogue?"

Looking around Charles, Elsie nodded. "I'm not sure how much there is left but yes."

"To a well-trained ear ma'am it's always detectable. It's a balm to my ears." He took a step closer holding out his hand, "Ewan Henderson, fellow Scotsman, at your service."

She took his hand firmly, "Elsie Hughes, I'm the housekeeper at Downton Abbey and now Grantham House."

Looking her in the eye as he leaned over and kissed her hand he smiled, "Welcome, Mrs. Hughes. Please let me know if I can be of any service."

Pulling her hand back, she resisted the urge to wipe it against her coat, "That's a kind offer Mr. Henderson but if I've a need of anything I know I can depend on Mr. Carson." She smiled up at Charles slightly worried about the look on his face. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised her ladyship I would call her when we arrived."

The two men watched her walk away with her suitcase. Once she was out of sight Mr. Henderson nudged Charles, "She's quite the step up from Mrs. Bute. Have you been hiding her away all of these years Carson, you sly dog?"

Picking up his case and the basket he started toward the stairs, "I've done no such thing. The family liked having a housekeeper at both residences. Now they've decided there really is no need for full time staff at a house they only use for a few months out of the year."

Mr. Henderson followed him, "Is there something on between you two?"

Charles stopped, turning to the man, "Mrs. Hughes is a respectable woman."

Stopping short, stunned by the look in Charles' eyes, "So there's a Mr. Hughes."

Taking a deep breath, Charles forced himself not to step threateningly toward the man, "No, as you well know, Mrs. is a title of respect."

"Yes, I do. Does that mean you won't mind if I ask the lovely Elsie Hughes to join me for an outing while she's in London?"

"Mrs. Hughes will be very busy while we are here. I doubt she will have time."

"Why don't we let her be the judge of it Carson?" Mr. Henderson turned and walked away leaving Charles fuming on the sidewalk.

He took several deep breaths before turning back to the stairs. Mr. Henderson infuriated him under the best of circumstances. His blatant interest in Mrs. Hughes, Elsie, was unacceptable. He stopped on his walk down the stairs, she wouldn't be interested in Mr. Henderson would she? He was a fellow countryman, they would likely have things in common. That man would understand things that he couldn't ever.

He made it to the bottom of the stairs and paused. It was simple, regardless of what Mr. Henderson might do or offer, he would have to show her there were things only he would or could ever understand about her.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Elsie looked back over her shoulder. Charles clearly didn't like Mr. Henderson. There was a story there. Something told her she would have to wait for him to come to her to hear it though.

At the door of the house, she set her case down, unlocked the door and entered the house. She made her way to the parlor which would now be hers and placed her case inside the door. Hopefully there would be time this week to reorganize the space.

Turning away from her parlor she made her way to his pantry. Opening the door she stepped inside. Smiling she looked around his space. Much like his pantry at Downton, this space embodied the man. His scent filled the air. She walked through the space on her way to his desk.

Her fingers trailed over the leather chair in front of the fireplace. It had fascinated her when she'd first seen it. It was over-sized, much like the man himself. It was slightly worn, yet solid, comforting. She wanted to sit in it, bury her face in the leather she knew would smell of him.

Forcing herself, she turned away from the chair. At his desk, she sat and placed her call to the Abbey.

* * *

><p>Charles entered the kitchen door and placed the basket on the table. He looked around for Elsie wanting to make sure she wasn't upset he had pushed her away. She'd said she needed to call Downton so he made his way to his office.<p>

He lingered in the doorway listening to her conversation with her ladyship. He wasn't sure what they were speaking of but Elsie seemed to be thanking her. Leaning against the doorframe he watched her take notes. She was smiling as she wrote. It would be nice to have her here each season, not to be separated.

She ended the calling placing the phone back in the correct spot on his desk. Returning her attention to her notes, she continued to write a few last things, "Did you have a good call with Lady Grantham?"

Elsie didn't start when he spoke. She'd known he was standing there before he even leaned against the doorframe. Smiling up at him she placed the pen on his desk, picked up her notes and stood, "It was a very good call. She found a few vendors she would like me to speak with while we are here. Also, she made a recommendation."

He smiled as she walked across the room toward him, "And what might that be?"

Stopping in front of him she looked up and smiled, "Since the boiler is out, she suggested we sleep in two of the guest rooms rather than in the attics."

"That would be…we couldn't possibly…it would be unacceptable."

"Why wouldn't it be possible? It's not as if the family is here or as if we would be staying in one of their rooms. There won't be any heat in the attics. I'm not sure about you Charles but I have no intention of freezing tonight. So unless you have some other way we would stay warm in the attics, I am taking her ladyship up on her offer."

Pulling himself to his full height he looked down at her, "Well I can't stop you from doing what you please but I will not be sleeping anywhere but in the attics. It is inappropriate."

Bristling at his tone she pushed past him, "Do as you please? I'll make sure you have extra blankets to keep you warm."

He watched as she grabbed her bag and headed up the stairs toward the family's part of the house. Surely she wasn't serious. She wouldn't sleep in a guest room, she didn't expect him to as well.

Picking up his own bag he headed for the stairs leading to the attics. He shook his head, impossible woman. As he climbed the stairs his mind flashed on what she'd said, "_So unless you have some other way we would stay warm in the attics."_ He could think of at least one way they could stay warm. He shook his head trying to clear the mental image from his head. Perhaps it was best she would be far away.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Elsie made her way up the stairs turning into the family's part of the house. She should have known he would never agree to sleep in a guest room. Even without the family here, he wouldn't relax completely. Silly, ridiculous man, he knew how cold it would be in the attics. He would rather freeze than relax his precious standards.

Opening the door to one of the rooms Lady Grantham had recommended she walked in. The room was beautiful. She walked through it smiling at the luxuriousness. Setting her suitcase on the bed she quickly unpacked her belongings and put the case away.

With that taken care of she returned to the hallway on her way to the linen storage. After unlocking the door she selected linens for the bed in her room then paused for a single moment before grabbing a second set.

Returning to her room she quickly made the bed. Picking up the second set she walked to the door before looking back into the room. Her eyes lingered on the bed. She'd never slept in anything so opulent. Closing her eyes she thought about stretching out across the bed. All of the space might be difficult to get used to. Her single bed at the Abbey had never bothered her. She wondered how a man Charles's size fared in such a small bed. Surely he would be more comfortable in this larger bed. This bed, with her, her breath caught as she pictured them in her mind. Would he hold her close or stay to his side of the bed?

She shook her head trying to clear the thoughts. It would never happen. Yes they had almost kissed, they had held hands, he had even touched her waist when they arrived, but to think anything further would happen while here in the family's home was foolish. She briefly wondered if they were elsewhere. Those thoughts would get her nowhere. They were much too old for her to think such things. She would be happy just to have him as companion for life. She would be happy just to have him, to not share him with the family.

Closing the door, she crossed the hall and proceeded to make the bed. She knew he'd said he wouldn't sleep in a guest room but she hoped he might change his mind.

Closing the door to the second bedroom, she returned to the linen closet. She might as well get her inventory started. If she was lucky she could finish it by the evening.

* * *

><p>Charles put his case in his room. Elsie had promised to bring him linens. He would make the bed when he came up for the night. He knew he'd overreacted on the rooms. He shouldn't have berated her for wanting to sleep somewhere it would be warm. He wanted her to be comfortable, warm.<p>

"_So unless you have some other way we would stay warm in the attics."_ Looking at his bed he wondered if they would both fit. Doubtful, he barely fit in the bed alone. He shouldn't have those thoughts. She would never want him in that way. And he would never presume to think it could happen. But those words, and their possible meaning, warmed him.

Pushing those thoughts away his hand tugged on his waistcoat, fingering it unconsciously. His mind started making lists of the things he needed to do. She hadn't said what she would do after she put her things away. But he knew her, she would go straight to work. It was probably best he did the same.

In the kitchen he saw the basket. There were probably items which needed to be put away. He quickly dug through the items taking care of what needed to be handled. At the bottom of the basket was a roast chicken for their dinner. Mrs. Patmore had planned for everything. He plugged in the electric refrigerator and placed the chicken and several other items inside it. He had just the wine to go with their dinner. He smiled at the thought of them being able to have a dinner without thought of interruption.

Returning to his pantry he made the calls he needed to arrange the times for tomorrow. After several hours all of his appointments for the following day were set. Stepping into the wine cellar he found the bottle of wine he'd remembered. Dusting it off, he carried it into his pantry.

The bottle was from his personal collection. He carefully decanted it and set it aside. Deciding it was time for a bit of a break he returned to the kitchen and set the kettle on to boil. He made a pot of tea, hoping she would join him.

He waited for a few minutes even contemplated going to find her. Instead he decided to give her space. She might be angry with him for refusing to sleep in a guest room. Best to let her have time to calm down. Some of their worst disagreements had occurred because he'd pushed. He didn't want to spend their entire time in London at odds with her.

He ate and drank alone. While cleaning up after himself he wondered if this was what life would be like if he ever retired. It had always been in the back of his mind that she might retire with him, married of course. He'd never had any illusions of love, at least on her part. The way she'd looked at him on the train made him wonder though. Perhaps she did love him, not in just a companionable way but in the same way he loved her. It didn't matter, he knew he could make her happy. Without the family to serve he could spend all of his time devoted to her. Perhaps she would learn to love him.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Elsie's afternoon passed quickly. The linen inventory had gone quickly. Much as she remembered, the linen supply was not only low but unacceptable. She'd rotated the linens to be replaced from the closet, placing them in baskets in the hallway. One basket would be taken below stairs to be used by the downstairs staff. The other would be given away.

She shook her head looking at the meager remaining linens. While it certainly did no good to dwell on it, she couldn't help but wonder what Mrs. Bute had been doing. Shaking her head she picked up the basket with the linens for downstairs and headed for the attics linen closet.

She'd told Mr. Carson she would bring him plenty of blankets to keep him warm during the night. A chill was already settling on the house. He would be foolish to sleep in the attics. Even though she suspected it would cause more disagreeable words to pass between them she would suggest he use the guest room again this evening.

Once in the attics, she found his room easily. Unlike at the Abbey, his room wasn't next to hers. In the two brief visits she'd made to Grantham House she hadn't been in his room. It was different than his room at the Abbey. There was something slightly impersonal to this room. Unlike his pantry here or even his bedroom at the Abbey, this just seemed to be a place to hang his clothes. There was no trace of the man here.

His suitcase was on the floor out of the way. Opening the wardrobe she knew he hadn't unpacked. It surprised her. Normally he was so fastidious. Placing the linens on the chair she lifted his suitcase and set it on the bed. She debated with herself for seconds before opening it and beginning to remove items.

It was the work of just a few moments to unpack his items and put them away. She hung his shirts carefully in the wardrobe. Her hands stroked each of them smoothing away imagined wrinkles. She hung his dressing gown on the hook on the back of the door. Pajamas and other undergarments were stacked neatly on the shelf in the wardrobe. She smiled to herself wondering if he would be pleased or embarrassed when he realized she'd unpacked for him.

It wasn't the first time she'd seen his undergarments. She'd repaired them all, had for years. One day while checking on the laundry girls she caught them talking about being uncomfortable mending his things. Not because of who he was but because they were scared to do it wrong and face his wrath. She'd seen the sorry state of some of his items and ordered them to bring them all to her sitting room going forward.

It had taken her days to mend everything to her satisfaction. Returning them to the laundry, she'd ordered the girls not to say anything. Days later Charles had casually mentioned over evening tea the improvements in the laundry service. He'd asked if she had made changes in staffing. Nodding noncommittally, she'd acknowledged a few changes had been made. With a firm nod of his head, he'd complimented her on the changes.

Putting the suitcase away, she started making the bed. He really had no idea all of the little ways she made his life easier. She didn't need him to know, it was reward enough to do it. Occasionally he would comment on something, assuming it was just something done for all. In those moments she would smile to herself and fall just a bit more in love with him.

The bed was made quickly, extra blankets stacked neatly at the foot. It was such a small thing by comparison to those in the guest quarters. Sitting on the edge of it she again wondered how he fit. Would he have to sleep on his side curled slightly to make sure his legs didn't hang over the edge? Closing her eyes she imagined him here. It was doubtful they would both fit in this bed, at least not side by side. One of them would have to be draped over the other.

Her eyes flew open, the image emblazoned in her mind; her on top of him, their legs tangled together. His hands wrapped in her hair pulling her impossibly closer. She could feel her lips on his bare chest, tasting him.

Standing quickly she put some distance between her and the bed. Her eyes frantically searched the room trying to find anything to focus on to distract her thoughts. His dressing gown came into view and she tore it from the hook. She placed it gently across the stack of blankets at the foot of the bed. Next she took his pajamas from the wardrobe and lay them next to it.

In her vision they had been naked, at least now there was clothing for her to imagine. She'd seen him in his pajamas and dressing gown dozens of times over the years. Picking up the other linens, she willed herself to think of him in his nightclothes. Her breathing slowed, cheeks cooling as slowly this image replaced the other.

She closed the door to his room, her fingers lingering on the doorknob for just a moment too long. Finally, turning to go, she forced her mind to linen inventories.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**There are two chapters today. If you haven't read 27 back up, we'll wait for you.**

With his tea finished and the few dishes cleaned, Charles' mind turned to thinking of her. It was his favorite pastime. When he'd first noticed, years ago, that she filled his mind in rare spare moments he'd tried to fight it. He would think of silver or wine inventories in an effort to push her away.

Then he noticed she would settle around those inventories, standing quietly in the corners of his mind watching him. He tried harder to banish her from his thoughts but it never worked. She waited quietly in the recesses, watching and smiling.

The Elsie in his mind wasn't nearly as pushy as her real life counterpart. Or at least she wasn't in those early years. Of late she pushed her way actively into his mind. He found when he was contemplating new things she would look over his shoulder. When he settled on a way of doing things or a solution which pleased her she would reward him with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder.

Now his mind actively sought her out. It pulled her from those quiet corners, finding solace in having her near. His mind was only truly calm when she was standing next to him. He smiled at the thought. While her presence calmed his mind it had the opposite effect on his body.

There were moments, more so of late, where her physical presence almost unhinged him. He noticed her scent, could physically feel her if she was anywhere near him. His body practically vibrated in her presence. He wondered if she had always stood so close to him or if he had merely become more aware. As his imaginary Elsie became bolder, he wanted more from the real Elsie.

When she stood, impossibly close to him, all he could think of was ways to get her closer. He knew if he wrapped his hands around her dainty waist he wouldn't feel her, it would be her corset. Would he be able to feel heat through it? Or would it mask her warmth, hiding it from him until he removed it?

His mind flashed to the train ride. She'd stood in front of him while digging through the basket. The fluidity of her body filled his senses. Looking down at his hand he noticed it had cupped slightly, remembering the curve of her waist as he'd held her earlier. It remembered her heat, the softness of her. There had been no barrier other than the thin material of her dress.

A deep heat swept across his body as he remembered the feel of her flush against him. Her body had molded itself to his. How had he not noticed at the time? Swallowing, he was thankful he hadn't noticed. His body would have responded, much as it was now.

Shaking his head, he knew he had to find something to do. Silver and wine inventories in his head wouldn't suffice. He needed something physical to do. Thinking of the day to come he decided a nice, long walk around the house would serve to settle him. He could add to the list the repairmen would work on in the coming days. Yes, attention to detail would distract him. Making his way to his pantry he gathered his ledger and a pencil then headed off in search of things needing attention.

An hour later, he'd made a thorough list of minor things around the house in need of repair. The minutiae of searching had distracted his mind, thrusting her out of it. He was on the last corridor when he realized he was in the section of the house Lady Grantham had probably recommended. He could see baskets of linens in the hallway and made a note to offer to carry those down for her this evening.

One door wasn't quite closed and he pushed it open. Her suitcase was in a corner a dressing gown hung beside the bed. Instantly he noticed it was new, or at least, new to him. Without thinking he entered the room, drawn to the item. His hand touched it, the silky fabric gliding across his hands. He wondered if it was new or if she simply didn't wear it when she had to walk the halls of Downton.

Realizing what he was doing he pulled his hand away. He felt almost ashamed, he shouldn't be violating her space in such a fashion, pawing through her belongings. As he berated himself his hand, once again, touched the fabric. The material was mesmerizing. It was fluid yet cold. He imagined it warmed by her skin, would its texture change, would it move more freely?

It was the coldness of the fabric which stopped his line of thinking. For the first time he noticed the chill settling over the house. His eyes were drawn to the fireplace in the room and he knew something he could do for her. Leaving his notebook and pencil on the bed he lifted the basket by the fireplace and made his way down the hall.

He quickly filled the basket and returned to her room. Carefully arranging the coal in the grate, he opened the flue and started the fire. It didn't take long for the heat to begin to seep through the room. He smiled knowing the room would be quite comfortable by the time they retired for the evening.

**A/N - Thanks to all of you amazing people for reading, reviewing, following, chatting back and forth. This really is the best fandom out there. You are supportive and funny and creative and all sorts of wonderful. Thanks to DeeDee and Mona for encouraging (read torturing, cajoling, browbeating) me to dip my toe into the wet, warm, wonderful waters that are Chelsie. **


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Elsie was finishing with the linen closet in the attics when she realized how hungry she was. Looking down the hallway she checked the time on the clock in the hallway. She smiled when she realized how late it was.

Closing the door to the linen closet and locking it she wondered for a moment where Charles was. If she knew him, and she did better than anyone, he'd probably deliberately not sought her out. In his mind, he would keep his distance thinking her angry because he refused to sleep in a guest room.

Silly man, she wasn't angry about him not sleeping in a guest room. Annoyed, yes, because he was simply being stubborn. The family had given permission there was no need to be concerned about propriety. She huffed to herself then smiled. Perhaps he was right to have stayed away.

Dusting off her skirts she briefly thought of going back to her room and freshening up. Her stomach grumbling changed her mind. Food would be a priority before changing. Besides it was just them, there was no need to change for dinner.

Making her way to the kitchen she wondered if he was in his pantry. Perhaps if he was they could have an early dinner. She'd joked with him on the train about going to bed early but it would be nice to go to bed before sheer exhaustion set in.

A slight hum in the kitchen made her smile. He'd taken care of the basket, putting things away. It was just like him. Opening the door to the refrigerator she looked in to see what Mrs. Patmore had sent for dinner. A roast chicken was center stage. Of course Mrs. Patmore would have sent this, it was her favorite.

She looked around the kitchen and found a cloth covered plate. Lifting the cloth there was an apple tart with a healthy slice missing. Clearly Mr. Carson had helped himself to tea. Rolling her eyes she knew why he hadn't come to find her. Without her around he could eat as large a slice as he chose. In his mind, she would police what and how much he ate. In fact, she rather liked that he had weaknesses, apple tart first among them.

Stepping around the corner she looked into his pantry to find it empty. There was a cheery fire going which helped to knock the chill off the room. She gave a moment's thought as to where he could be then decided to use his absence to her advantage. Heading back into the kitchen she set about preparing their dinner.

She turned on the gas oven laughing at how easy it was. Mrs. Patmore had complained about it when it was introduced in the kitchen, claiming it was too difficult to use. She'd deliberately asked the men who'd installed the new item to show her how to operate it. The look on Mrs. Patmore's face when she'd done it without batting an eye on one of Daisy's half day had been worth the time spent with the men. Another benefit had been the look of pride on Charles' face when she'd surprised Mrs. Patmore.

While she waited for things to heat up she went into Mrs. Patmore's cubby in search of an apron. Her clothes were quite dusty enough without messing them further.

As she pottered around the kitchen she hummed to herself. In her mind, she was in their kitchen. The kitchen of the property Charles had proposed buying. It was one of the few times in their relationship he'd surprised her. He'd been so unsure of himself, so halting and lovely. It had been so hard not to go to him, pulling him to her, kissing him. She'd wanted to run her hands through his hair, press herself against him, feel him against her. She'd had to tell him to go ring the gong before she'd done it. Perhaps while they were here they could talk about the "business venture" among other things.

She transferred food to pans and put everything in the oven. Knowing it would take some time for things to heat she decided to make a cup of tea. She filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. Her humming continued as she pulled plates and tea things from the cupboards. Looking around she wondered where they would eat.

It made sense to just eat in the servant's hall. The table in the kitchen was too tall for any of the chairs and she was entirely too tired to eat standing up. Laughter escaped her at the idea of suggesting to Charles they eat standing around the kitchen table.

"What has amused you so Elsie?"


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

She turned to him, actually surprised he'd managed to sneak up on her, "You have Charles."

He raised his eyebrows, stepping into the kitchen, "I wasn't even in the room, how could I possibly have amused you?"

She took a second cup and saucer from the cupboard, knowing he would join her for a cup of tea, "I was just contemplating where we would eat dinner tonight. Of course, we could have dinner in the servant's hall." The kettle whistled. She busied herself with making their tea. Turning to him she handed him the perfectly prepared cup.

He took it from her nodding his thanks, "And that was funny enough to make you giggle?"

"I don't giggle."

"Not often, no, but on occasion." He saw the storm brewing in her eyes, "And when you do, it's delightful. Now what made you giggle?"

She looked away, embarrassed and pleased by what he'd said. Taking a sip of her tea she met his eyes, "If you must know I was laughing at how you would respond if I suggested we eat our dinner while standing around this table."

He took a small sip of his tea savoring its perfection, "And how, exactly, do you think I would have responded?"

A cheeky smile crossed her face, "Blustering indignation comes to mind."

He stood taller, his hand going to his waistcoat. His voice deepened to a dangerous rumble, "I do not bluster…"

"Very often." He opened his mouth to interrupt her, "And when you do it's charming."

He deflated his hand tightening on his waistcoat. He looked at her, mesmerized. "Might I humbly make a recommendation Elsie?"

She watched him oddly wondering what had just happened. She'd been prepared to deal with his bluster but he'd seemed to melt right in front of her. And now he was offering a humble recommendation. "I would like that very much Charles."

"I started a fire in my pantry earlier, it will be vastly warmer in there than in the servant's hall and significantly more comfortable than standing in here."

"Warmth and comfort, an offer I can't refuse."

"Is that a yes Elsie?"

Nodding softly, "Yes Charles."

Walking around the table, Charles took her cup and saucer. "I'll just wash these then pour the wine. Let me know when you are ready and I will carry our meal to my pantry."

"Any wine you might select would need to breathe Charles?"

Leaning towards her he lowered his voice, whispering in her ear, "Have faith Elsie."

Looking up at him from under her eyelashes, "I always have Charles."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Their eyes locked. Charles desperately wished his hands were empty. He could feel heat coming off her in waves. Her chest seemed to rise and fall faster. He felt her move closer. For a brief moment he contemplating throwing the cups over his shoulder and pulling her to him, capturing her pretty lips in a blistering kiss.

Elsie looked up at him, her lips parted, air rushing past them. Her breathing seemed to be out of control. What would he do if she took those cups and saucers from his hands and threw them across the room? Would he pull her to him? Lift her to sit on the table? Press her legs apart and stand between them as she pulled him to her? Their lips would be at the same height then, neither would have to reach or pull. She could run her hands through his hair, wrap her legs around him. Without thinking she moved toward him, closing the distance between them. Her hand reached for his chest, she lifted on her toes. She wanted this, she wanted him.

He saw her hand move, hovering over his chest. She lifted slightly. He lowered his head, his arms moving around her to place the cups and saucer on the table. Her eyes glimmered, the blue almost completely given way to the black of her pupils. Enough was enough, he wanted this; he wanted her.

She could feel his warm breath on her face. Their lips a mere inches apart. The heat from his body enveloped her as his arms moved around her. She stopped pushing up, letting him close the last few inches. Her eyes locked on his, caramel giving way to pure black. Her hands itched to grab hold of his lapels but felt she needed to let him take control.

He felt her pause and for a moment was scared. Did she not want this? He wanted to let her take control for fear he might overwhelm her. He looked in her eyes and was lost. Pushing forward he felt her body against his. He lowered his head, closing the last bit of distance.

A ringing noise filled the air, Charles's hands trembled, a cup sliding from the saucer. It crashed to the table shattering. He pulled away, fighting the curse on his lips.

Elsie dropped down, pulling her hand away. His back was to her, she could see the tension building in his body. Tenderly she reached for his hand still holding the undamaged cup and saucer, "Charles, let me take it." He jerked at her touch, "It's OK. Answer the telephone, I'll clean up and fix our plates."

"I said I would clean the cups, now I've made more of a mess."

Softly stroking his hand she smiled up at him, "Well then it's good I'm a dab hand at cleaning up messes." She saw the tension melt from his body. Taking the dishes from him she leaned into him lightly, "Go answer the telephone."

He nodded before walking away quickly. Before he walked around the corner, "I'll be back in a minute to help you."

He was gone before she could reply. She stared after him wondering what had just happened. Twice in one day they'd almost kissed. Something told her this kiss wouldn't have been like the one that almost happened on the train. There had been a fire in his eyes, a look which melted her.

She shook her head stopping those thoughts. She went to the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them on a towel to drain. Turning back to the table she swept up the broken pieces and threw them in the rubbish bin.

She washed her hands then carefully removed items from the oven before quickly making two plates. She could still hear him talking, his voice a low rumble, resonating through the downstairs. Crossing the kitchen she took silverware from the hutch along with two napkins. There was no need to wait for him. She was perfectly capable of carrying these few items.

Picking up the two plates she made her way to his pantry. She paused in the door, watching him write notes. The phone was already put back in its spot, "Is everything alright Charles?"

He smiled up at her, "Absolutely." Seeing the plates in her hand he frowned, "I told you I would help."

She walked into the room and shrugged, "I'm perfectly capable of carrying a few plates. Why don't you pour us some wine?"

Standing, he walked around his desk. He picked up the decanter and the glasses he had set out earlier in the day and carried them to the table where she was. Placing them both on the table, he took the plates from her, "I know you are capable Elsie, I wanted to help." He placed the plates on the table then pulled out her chair.

She looked up at him, smiling. "Thank you Charles."

Just as she was about to sit he stopped her by placing his hands on her waist. She looked up at him and felt his hands at the small of her back. His fingers moved across her back sending chills through her. Suddenly his arms wrapped around her waist, his hands trailing against her. He leaned down and she felt his breath on her ear, "I don't think you'll be needing this anymore tonight."

She looked down at his hands holding the apron in front of her and giggled. She took it from him, her hands lingering on his, "I'd forgotten all about it. I guess that happens when you aren't used to wearing one anymore."

"It's been a long time hasn't it?"

Folding the apron, she nodded as she sat. "Longer than I'm willing to admit."

He helped push her chair in before moving to his, "It seems like only yesterday." He poured wine into her glass then moved to his.

"Hardly, it's been so long I can barely remember."

Lifting his glass he smiled at her, "Then it's a good thing I remember it so well." He waited until she lifted her glass then touched his gently to hers, "To remembering."


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

They ate in silence. It was a comfortable silence. It enveloped them, keeping them warm, safe. Neither felt the need to fill it, instead they luxuriated in it, let it wash over them. For once today, neither was lost in errant thoughts. They stayed solely in this moment.

As Elsie finished her last bite she picked up her glass, sat back in her chair and smiled at him. "What do you remember Charles?"

She'd caught him mid-bite. Slowly he put the fork in his mouth, chewed the morsel of food, wiped his mouth and smiled at her. He let his mind danced along all of those first memories of her smiling at the kaleidoscope of Elsie. Carefully folding his napkin he set in on the table beside his plate, "Where would you like me to start? I remember it all."

"The first time you saw me?"

He laughed, a deep, belly laugh which filled the room, "In the hallway outside Mrs. Morgan's office, you'd just arrived at Downton. You were waiting for her when two errant hall boys came running through the corridor. Without missing a beat and in a clear, but not terribly loud voice, you stopped them in their tracks." He looked up at her thinking she'd stopped him in his tracks too.

"And where were you Charles? Where were you that you saw me and I didn't see you?"

"I was in the boot room polishing Lady Mary's riding boots. I'd heard them coming and was about to step into the hallway and reprimand them. I needn't have worried, you had it well in hand. When I heard your voice, I stepped back into the room. I think you scared them half to death." He paused a beat then his laughter filled the room, "Truth told you scared me just a bit too."

"Did I truly scare you Charles?"

Staring at her he was lost. She was beautiful in the firelight. It's flickering glow set her hair afire,  
>"You still do."<p>

She leaned forward, her had on the table, almost but not quite reaching for him. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to scare you."

"Don't apologize, it's a good thing. You push me, make me look at the world in a different light. It's scary but exhilarating."

"I don't know how Mr. Carson, but somehow you made that sound risqué."

Reaching across the table, he took her hand, "And if I did?"


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

She swallowed, chewing on her lower lip. "I guess I'll just have to hold your hand to steady myself."

Squeezing her hand he smiled, "You can always hold my hand if you need to feel steady."

"Is that the only time I can hold your hand Charles?"

"I hope not Elsie." He met her eyes, "I would like it if you held my hand whenever you want."

"Whenever Charles?"

He laughed, "You always like to challenge me."

"You just said it was a good thing."

He threaded their fingers together, "Indeed I did, a very good thing." They stared at each other for a moment, "Did I thank you for dinner?"

"It wasn't much. I heated a few things, it was nothing."

"It was the loveliest meal I've had in a long while."

"It's not over you know?"

His heart skipped a beat, what could she mean? The memory of their moment in the kitchen flashed before his eyes. He'd wanted desperately to kiss her. In that moment he hadn't thought about eating on the table. His thoughts had been filled with lifting her onto it, kissing her. He'd wanted to work his way down her neck unbuttoning her blouse as he went, tasting her skin as it was revealed to him. Would she have returned his passion, the look in her eyes suggested she would have? Was it possible, did she want him in the same way he wanted her?

"Charles, are you alright?" He felt her hand tighten on his.

He smiled, "Just lost in the moment, did you say something about it not being over?"

A mischievous sparkle lit her eyes, "No, it's not. I have it on very good authority that Mrs. Patmore sent an entire apple tart for us to savor."

He looked away, somewhat sheepishly, "I might have already savored some of it."

Raising an eyebrow, "How much might you have savored? It was meant for us to share."

He blushed, somewhat ashamed of himself, "I'm very sorry Elsie. I should have waited…"

Standing she lifted her plate and reached for his, "Don't be daft, I was just teasing you. Can you keep a secret?"

He stopped her hand, "On one condition." She nodded. He stood, picking up his plate and taking hers, "Let me clear and clean up."

She looked away as if she was thinking about his idea, "You drive a hard bargain Charles, but I accept your terms."

He took the plate from her, "What's your secret Elsie?"

Her eyes widened as she leaned into him conspiratorially, "You must promise to never reveal it to another soul."

"You have my word of honor."

A small, half smile covered her face as she looked up at him, "I don't really care for Mrs. Patmore's apple tart. You can have the entire thing."

His laughter filled the room, "Elsie, I'm not sure you're secret is very secret."

"What do you mean?"

"Also included in our basket was enough shortbread to feed a small army. I don't particularly care for shortbread. But I know a certain Scottish housekeeper who loves it."

She giggled at his glee, "Or perhaps she simply knew I would never get a slice of apple tart with you around?"

"Touché' Elsie. Would you like some shortbread to finish out our repast?"

Touching his arm lightly she nodded, "That would be lovely."

"Let me take care of these." He nodded toward the fire, "Why don't you settle in? I'll only be a few minutes."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Charles took the plates to the kitchen and cleaned up after their meal. He put the remaining food back into the refrigerator and washed the dishes. Finally he cut himself a healthy slab of apple pie then placed a handful of shortbread on a plate for her. He didn't bother with tea thinking they would both prefer more wine. It was time they lived a little.

Once he was certain the kitchen was clean enough to pass the inspection of a certain picky housekeeper he picked up the two plates and returned to his pantry. He paused just outside the door thinking of all of the things they had said to one another today. In his wildest dreams he would never have imagined they would have come this far, this fast. Closing his eyes he said a silent thank you to Lady Grantham for sending Elsie to London.

With a last deep breath he turned into his office, "Instead of tea, I thought we might have another glass or two of wine."

Silence filled the room. He looked around in a panic, had she gone somewhere without him? Had she gone to bed? He placed the plates on his table then turned to go to her pantry, perhaps she'd gone to get something.

At the door, a small noise drew his attention. Turning back into the office he walked to his chair. There, curled into leather with her nose just touching it, was Elsie, sound asleep.

He sighed, thrilled she was comfortable enough in his space to fall asleep. A lesser man might have focused on the fact that the woman he loved had fallen asleep on him twice in the same day. Charles Carson was not a lesser man. He reveled in the fact, she trusted him enough to give into rest.

He settled into the other chair and watched her, all thoughts of apple tart gone from his mind. She was even lovelier when she slept. All of the worry left her face, she seemed so peaceful. He wondered for a moment why she'd sat in his chair. It couldn't be terribly comfortable for her.

If he was honest the chair should have been replaced years ago. Lord Grantham had offered him other chairs. He could have replaced it at any time. But this chair had been with him since he became butler. He couldn't bear to part with it. It fit him, in size and in temperament. He hoped to take it with him when he retired. He hoped to take her with him when he retired.

He didn't know how much time passed as he watched her. He would have happily watched her all night. She shuffled in the chair, burying her nose in the leather. A contented sigh escaped her lips, it tugged at him, creating a fire within.

Shaking his head, trying to break the spell, he knew he had to wake her, send her to her room. Reaching across the distance he lightly stroked her arm, "Elsie." He waited, then increased his pressure on her arm, "Elsie."

Her blue eyes, hazy with sleep, flickered open. She smiled lazily, "Charles?"

"You fell asleep. Perhaps we should do what you suggested earlier." At the quizzical look on her face he smiled, "Go to bed before we're exhausted. Although it might be too late for you."

She stretched in his chair, a small yawn escaping, "What about the shortbread?"

He watched her stretch, the fabric of her clothing molded itself to her soft curves. His eyes traveled the length of her body, so slim and yet there was a lushness. He stood, stepping away from her, "It's just here."

"Well bring it over, if you've already eaten your apple tart while I was sleeping, I'll happily share."

"No, I find I'm suddenly very tired. Perhaps it's best if we just go to bed."

She watched him, wondering why he was acting so oddly. Was he angry she'd fallen asleep? She hadn't planned it. The warmth of the fire combined with his smell enveloping her as she'd sat in his chair had overwhelmed her. It had been like being wrapped in his arms.

Standing she went to him, gently placing her hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry I fell asleep Charles."

Keeping his back to her he handed her the plate, "Don't be. We should probably head up."

"Are you sure, you haven't even eaten your tart?"

Picking up the apron, draped across her chair, he turned to her, being sure to keep it in front of him. "I'll leave it for tomorrow. I really am quite tired."

She nodded, "If you're sure?" He nodded tightly. She took a step forward and he took a step backwards. Her hand reached for his chest and he stopped it with his, "Charles are you certain you are alright?"

The look he gave her was pleading, "Yes, I think the day's travel is catching up with me. I was up quite late last night."

She saw the lie, would have known it even if she hadn't been able to read him so well. "Very well then." She placed the plate back on the table, "I'll just leave those there. I find I'm suddenly not in the mood."

Charles could see the hurt on her face but he couldn't tell her why he so desperately needed to be away from her. He squeezed her hand, hoping desperately to repair the damage he'd done, "Why don't you take it with you? Ladies of the house always have a few biscuits in their rooms."

She smiled at his conciliatory offer, "Only if you will join me."

He panicked, what was she asking him? "I'm not really a fan of shortbread Elsie."

Her free hand touched his chest before he could stop it, "I wasn't talking about the shortbread. Join me upstairs, it will be freezing in the attics. I made up a room for you."

The warmth of her hand on his chest sent a shockwave through him. He clutched the apron tighter to him, suddenly freezing cold attics seemed to be just what he needed. "I wouldn't be comfortable." At her look he smiled, "I'm not judging you for wanting to sleep in the comfort, this is just who I am. Please don't be angry with me."

The discomfort on his face calmed her. He wasn't upset with her, he must have anticipated she would ask him again. She nodded slightly, pressing her hand into his chest, "I understand. Promise me though, if it gets too cold, you will put propriety aside and join me."

He swallowed at the images which came to him with those two words: join me. "I'll be fine Elsie. I'm made of sterner stuff."

Laughing lightly at his parroting of her words she reached for the apron, "Fine, since you cleaned up the dinner dishes, I'll take care of these."

He pulled the apron back, almost screaming, "No…" She stared at him, shocked he'd raised his voice. Her stare softened him, "I need to bank the fire and check the locks. I'll take care of these. Go on to bed Elsie."

Letting loose of the apron she stepped back, "Very well, I'll see you in the morning." She walked past him stopping at the door, "Sleep well Charles.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Elsie made her way up the stairs slowly. She hoped Charles would change his mind and join her. Her mind turned to his odd behavior. Was he upset she'd fallen asleep? Had he hoped their evening would continue? Perhaps he'd hoped, as she did, they might actually kiss.

She halted on the stairs, thinking of turning around and going back to him. They'd danced around each other long enough. Her body turned, of its own accord. She was down two steps before she stopped herself. No, she couldn't do it. If this happened between them she would have to let him come to her. He might not push her away but she would always feel as if she had pushed him.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, turned on the stairs and continued her climb. In the hallway where their rooms were she looked at the closed door of the room she'd made up for him. She didn't think he would come up but she should at least prepare. She opened the door and walked to the bed. Quickly she turned down the bed, fluffing the pillows. There was a chill in the room. Turning to the fireplace she picked up the bucket beside it and went down the hall.

Taking coal from the closet, she returned to his room. She placed several pieces in the fireplace but didn't light it. If he changed his mind, he could light the fire and warm the room quickly. Looking back to the bed with a deep longing she smiled. An image of them tangled in the sheets filled her mind, it was what she wanted more than anything. After their moment in the kitchen, she was almost positive it was what he wanted to. The question which lingered in her mind was whether it was a passing fancy or something more.

She left the room, refilled the coal bucket then walked to her own room. As she opened the door a smile lit her face. The dying embers of a fire were in the fireplace. The room was warm, bordering on hot. She walked quickly to the fireplace and set the bucket down. Tears filled her eyes thinking he'd done this for her.

He was so opposed to sleeping in the main house but he'd still done this. It might be the sweetest thing he'd ever done for her. She dropped a few more pieces of coal onto the fire, not wanting to let it die. The warmth reminded her of her fatigue. She knew she needed to wash and go to bed. The next day would be long and she wanted to make sure she was well rested. She had no intentions of falling asleep on him again.

Dusting her hands off, she collected her night things then headed to the washroom. As she stepped into the bathroom she shook her head. There was no reason she shouldn't indulge herself. This bathroom was so much nicer than she was used to. Additionally, there would be no one anxious to use it. She could linger.

Without a further thought she set the tap to run. She watched the water flow in the tub mesmerized by its size. It was probably long enough even for Charles. A blush covered her chest as she imagined him reclining in the bathtub. Would there be enough room for the two of them? She mentally added a large bathtub to the list of requirements for the cottage they might purchase, purely for practical reasons.

She slowly unbuttoned her blouse, watching her hands as they manipulated the buttons. Would his much larger hands be able to work the tiny buttons? Her breath hitched for a moment thinking of how nimble his fingers were. They were strong, yet gentle.

Pulling the blouse apart she looked down at her new brassiere. Her fingers traced its lacy edge. Today was the first time she'd worn it outside of her room. She'd been forced to alter a few of her clothes, she was smaller without her corset. It had felt odd to not have on her corset. Odd, but at the same time liberating.

She wondered if Charles had noticed a difference. Surely, he would have felt the difference when he'd caught her on the train. She shook her head, how would he know? It's not as if he'd ever touched her before. She thought about him, all of the touches today, a familiar heat suffused her body.

Removing the rest of her clothes, she turned off the faucet then slipped into the water. The hot water relaxed her instantly. It had been a lovely day. She never would have thought Charles would relax so much. His lovely words over dinner had surprised her.

He remembered the first time he'd ever seen her. She hadn't known he was there but she remembered the incident. Only Charles would think fondly on her chastising someone. Exhilarating was what he'd said. The word had sent a thrill through her. She wasn't used to such effusive language from him.

She'd thought, hoped, when he returned they would have continued their evening. Perhaps picked up where they left off in the kitchen. She was not an innocent woman. There had been dalliances, long before she'd come to Downton. Nothing lasting, or even worth remembering. However, once she'd met Charles there hadn't been anyone.

But in those few dalliances, no man had ever made her feel what she'd felt in the kitchen, on the train, in his pantry. There had been a heat flaring within her. She had never wanted to touch or be touched by someone as much as she had in that moment.

The look in his eyes suggested he'd felt the same. She wondered if she should have just closed the distance and kissed him, pressed her lips to his. Would he have pushed further? Would those last few walls have come crashing down?

Closing her eyes she rested her head against the tub. She loved him, wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But she didn't want to spend the rest of her life at Downton. She'd decided months ago, when Lady Grantham had told her of the decision not to replace Mrs. Bute, that she would see the family through the season then announce her retirement. It would give them almost six months before the next season to find a replacement and for her to train them.

When Charles had asked her about purchasing a small property together it had seemed divine intervention. Perhaps he too was thinking of a future without Downton as their mistress. In her dreams his proposal and been more than a business venture. She'd prayed he would clarify things when they finally talked about it. But he'd never clarified anything. He'd never said anything more.

This was why she'd tricked her way into this trip, to force his hand. If nothing happened during this trip, she would have her answer. She would be able to retire with her mind clear. She wouldn't stay in Downton though. If things went that way she would go back to Scotland, get to know her family again. It would be too hard to stay, to see him but not be with him. The anguish would be too much.

Oddly, making her decision had invigorated her, given her a new lease on life. It made sense when you thought about it. She wanted to go out on top, be remembered as one of, if not the best, housekeeper Downton had ever seen. She'd kept her decision to herself, no need to upset things needlessly.

A yawn escaped and she realized how tired she actually was. She pulled the stopper then stood and wrapped one of the towels around her body as stepped from the bathtub. Slowly she dried her body with the thick towel.

Her body was still fit, climbing stairs for all of these years had served her well. Things might not be as firm as they once were but she was still proud of her figure. Pulling her dressing gown around her body she looked down again. As she tightened it around her waist she wondered if Charles would feel the same.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

Charles watched her go, listening for her footfalls to disappear. He counted to a hundred after he heard her last step. A deep breath then he counted to a hundred again. Dropping the apron into her chair he looked down his body and cursed silently.

Why now, after all this time, why was his body betraying him? He didn't think she'd noticed, he hoped she hadn't. What would she think if she knew?

It had been when she stretched. He couldn't imagine anything more erotic. Her body had only been separated from him by a small distance and a few flimsy pieces of clothing. She'd been sitting in his chair but all he'd seen was her stretching across a bed. Not one of the small beds in the attics, one of the large, roomy beds in the main house.

He'd pictured how easy it would be to remove her clothing. Tried to imagine what this new garment was he'd seen outlined under her blouse. Would it be lace or silk or both? Could he trace his tongue over it and feel her harden beneath it?

Shaking his head he tried to break the thoughts. Those thoughts were what got him in this predicament in the first place, so aroused he'd had to send her away or risk embarrassing himself. This was not the way he wanted to treat her. Not that he didn't want her, he wanted her very much. He was almost certain she wanted him in the same way.

But there was a certain way these things happen. And he wouldn't disrespect her, couldn't. He didn't want her for a single night, he wanted her for a lifetime, the rest of his. He wouldn't sully her with his unsavory needs like some randy footman. No, there was a right way to do things.

Finally, feeling as if he might have some small control over his body's betrayal, he moved to the fire. Making sure it was banked and the dying embers carefully spread he picked up their dishes and wine glasses and returned to the kitchen. He put away the desserts and cleaned the dishes. One last check of the door and he turned out the lights and made his way up the stairs.

He knew the attics would be bitterly cold. Elsie warm in a cozy bed filled his mind. He wondered if she'd found the fire he'd lit for her. Thinking of her silky dressing gown he hoped she hadn't thought of him in her room too much. Oddly as he thought of the dressing gown, he remembered there hadn't been a nightgown. Would her nightgown match the dressing gown? Would it be as silky and lacy?

A quick shake of his head stopped his thoughts. He had to stop or sleep would never come. Climbing slowly he thought of his unmade bed. She'd said she would leave him extra blankets. The routine of making his bed would calm him.

Making it to his room at last, his heart stopped when he opened the door. A strangled cry escaped his mouth. His bed was made, extra blankets carefully folded at the foot. His pajamas rested on top of his dressing gown on the blanket.

She'd done this for him. Even though he knew he'd annoyed her earlier, turning down Lady Grantham's offer, she'd still thought to do this for him. He opened the wardrobe, confirming she had unpacked for him. He supposed he should feel uncomfortable with her touching his things. But he knew she touched them regularly.

She thought she'd been so sly, that she had kept a secret from him all of these years. As if he wouldn't notice all of his underclothes carefully darned, almost overnight. Thought he wouldn't question why the laundry girls giggled when they handed him his laundry packet the first time it happened. He might not be the most observant man but a man notices when his pants and vests were meticulously repaired, almost as good as new.

He didn't have the nerve to confront her about it. He'd idly asked about changes in the laundry and let her take the lead. She'd played coy so he'd let her, complimented her on the changes. Then he'd found ways to make her life easier. They weren't big things or even things she might notice, a special dessert when he suspected she'd had a bad day. Not encouraging extra pours of wine at dinner when it was a vintage he knew she liked. Sending Daisy into her sitting room with a tea tray when he knew she was feeling melancholy then coming in to ask her a random question. She always invited him to join and he would try harder to make her laugh. Little things which cost him nothing to do but lifted her spirits.

What did it mean? They took such deliberate care of one another but never let the other know. These were things married couples did for one another. Removing his jacket he hung it neatly in the wardrobe. He walked across the small room to sit in his chair and remove his shoes. He laughed, in a way, they were like a married couple, in all ways but one. Standing he unbuttoned his waistcoat.

By rote, his hand removed a carefully folded handkerchief from the pocket. He squeezed it reassuring before placing it carefully on the nightstand. Picking up his shoes he walked back to the wardrobe and placed them carefully inside. Quickly he removed his waistcoat, his shirt and hung those items too. Finally he grabbed his toiletry kit, a fresh pair of pants, his pajamas and head to the washroom.

Once in the bathroom, he divested himself of the remainder of his clothes and quickly washed. He knew he could have taken more time as there was no one pressing to use the facilities but he was afraid his body might betray him again. Redressing, he returned to his room.

The bracing cold had helped to calm him. He slid between the sheets and tried not to think about her in his room. His mind disobeyed and all he could think of was her. His treacherous nose imagined it could smell her scent on the sheets. Rolling over he buried his head in the pillow, screaming in frustration.

Counting to a hundred, he imagined an unending stream of silver to be polished, wine to be inventoried. He felt his pulse slowing and rolled over slowly. The counting continued as he kicked off the covers, letting the coolness of the room continue calming him.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Elsie returned to her room, closing the door behind her. Taking her book from the nightstand she debated curling into bed to read or relaxing by the fire. Her eyes lingered on the bed where there was a notepad and pencil. Picking them up, she recognized Charles's handwriting at once.

She wondered briefly why he would have been near the bed when he came in to light the fire. All of the heat which had suffused her body earlier in the evening returned. Had he looked at the bed and imagined them in it as she had.

Remembering her dressing gown had been hanging by the bed she wondered if he'd touched it. It wasn't her normal dressing gown but one she'd purchased only recently. She only wore it in the privacy of her room. The material was impractical for regular wear but when she'd seen it she couldn't resist. She'd even bought the matching gown, a negligee the sales girl had told her. The way it felt against her made her skin tingle. The first time she'd worn it she'd thought of him. Would it feel as good against her skin as he slid it off her body?

Those thoughts would get her nowhere. He would be mortified to know she had such thoughts about him. She placed the notebook and pencil on the nightstand making a mental note to return it to his office early in the morning. There was no need to embarrass him by letting him know where she'd found it.

Trying to clear her mind, she decided it was best to read away from the bed. She crossed the room and settled into a chair in front of the fire. Opening the book, she tried to lose herself to the words of Virginia Woolf.

Twenty minutes later she closed the book in frustration. It was too warm in the room. She couldn't decide if it was because of the fire or her other musings. Either way, reading was a lost cause. Walking back to the bed and turning down the covers she decided it was perhaps the fire. Not wanting to douse the fire, knowing it would get colder throughout the evening, she finally fixed on the door. She could open it partway and the cooler air of the hallway would temper the warmth of the fire.

As she opened the door, she debated with herself. What if Charles came down? Would he think it an invitation? So what if he did? Maybe she had been too coy. Laughter escaped as she realized the folly of her thoughts. Of course Charles wouldn't come downstairs. He would rather freeze, in the attics.

She opened the door and returned to her bed. Turning out the lights, she snuggled deeply into the bed. As her body and mind succumbed to the luxury of the bed, one random thought filtered through her subconscious, "What if he wanted to be in the attics to be far away from her?"

**Insert Line**

Charles woke, shivering from the cold. He pulled at the covers trying to warm himself. He tried curling into a ball to generate some heat. His breath was a puff of vapor in front of him. As much as he hated to admit it, it was far too cold to sleep in the attics. Without the boiler, there was no residual heat within the house.

He lay there debating with himself. A quick look at the clock told him it was entirely too early to get up, dress and start to work. He thought about the chair in his office. He could sleep there, he'd certainly done it before.

No, he couldn't do that. He had too many things to accomplish the next day. He wanted to make sure he was free to take Elsie around London the following day Sleeping in his chair would be unrestful and he couldn't risk being tired and cranky or worse his back acting up. Closing his eyes he grumpily acknowledged there was only one choice. He would have to sleep downstairs.

His body, which had finally calmed while sleeping, responded to the thought. Not to the same point as earlier but definitely a piqued interest. Shaking his head he pushed up, throwing the covers to the side. The cold of the room served as a wet blanket on his betraying body.

He quickly pulled on his dressing gown as he slipped into his slippers. Gathering a few necessities he quietly exited his room and began his journey to the other room. He didn't take all of his belongings, the boiler would be fixed tomorrow and he could return to his attic room.

Entering the hallway, he walked carefully, not wanting to wake her. There were three bedrooms on this hallway, he knew which one was hers so it would be quick work to find the one she'd made up for him. He opened the door closest to the stairs and knew instantly it wasn't the right room. The bed was still unmade and sheets covered the furniture.

Closing the door behind him he walked further down the hallway. Her open door surprised him. He was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Quietly, he stood in the doorway praying her unerring ability to sense him didn't work when she was sleeping.

The fire lit the room, light dancing quietly across the room. She was curled halfway onto her side, one arm thrown over her head, a bare arm. He swallowed as his eyes raked across her bare skin. It was pale, almost ivory in color.

He'd never seen this much of her before. Yes he'd seen her bare feet and part of her legs but this was more intimate. His pounding heart let him know how inappropriate this was. He couldn't be sure if it was pounding from fear of being caught for from the sheer erotic nature of what he was watching.

She sighed in her sleep, a soft, almost sensual sound, and rolled onto her back. The bare skin of chest was on display. For a moment he thought she was nude, but for the covers, then he saw the pale lace of her nightgown almost blending with her skin.

He staggered away from the door, ashamed of himself. He had invaded her privacy. Turning he headed back to the attics, as he opened the door to enter the stairwell the cold smacked him in the face. He knew he couldn't go back to the attics. The room across the hall from her was his only option.

Resigned, he walked back to the room, opened the door and slipped in as quietly as possibly. The turned down bed greeted him. He cursed silently, she'd known he would come down. Flinging his things into the chair he blustered about, annoyed with her assumptions. Then he saw the coal in the unlit fire and he calmed instantly.

She hadn't known, she'd just prepared. Bending to light the fire he smiled to himself. Just another way she'd taken care of him, the way they both did.

He removed his dressing gown draping it over the foot of the bed. The fire had already begun to take the chill from the room. Lifting the cover he slid between the sheets. He almost moaned from the comfort of the bed. It only took him a moment to settle in. Just before he fell asleep, one thought passed through his mind, "It wasn't her normal sleep attire, why was she wearing it here?"


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

Elsie woke the next morning more rested than she'd felt in longer than she could remember. Looking at the clock in the room she realized it wasn't much later than her normal time to wake. Going to bed hours earlier than normal combined with a vastly more comfortable bed had refreshed her.

She stretched across the bed, luxuriating in the space. Debating whether or not to go back to sleep, just for a bit, she remembered Mrs. Patmore had arranged for a delivery of food for the week. Throwing the covers off, she bound from the bed. Perhaps she could make it downstairs before the delivery arrived and keep the bells from waking him.

Wrapping her dressing gown around her she took clothes from the wardrobe and headed to the washroom. In the hallway she looked across the hall. The door was closed and she wondered for a moment if Charles had come downstairs. Shaking her head she rolled her eyes, of course he hadn't come downstairs.

In the washroom, she quickly took care of her morning ritual then dressed. She returned to her room, made the bed and straightened the room. Picking up his notebook she smiled as she closed her eyes saying a silent prayer. She hoped today was the day they finally crossed the last barrier between them.

Crossing the room, she looked back to the bed. Perhaps tonight they would only need to use one bedroom, perhaps tonight it would be him keeping her too warm and not the fire. Closing the door behind her she made her way quietly downstairs.

She filled the kettle then placed it on the fire. Charles would most likely not sleep too late, it wasn't in his personality to relax, even when the family wasn't about. The least she could do after he spent the night freezing in the attics was have something to warm him. Perhaps, if the delivery came early enough, she could bring him breakfast. She gasped at the thought of bringing him breakfast in bed.

A knock at the door drew her attention. Walking quickly to the door, she opened it, expecting the delivery man. Much to her surprise, it was the smiling Scotsman from the day before. Smiling she wracked her brain trying to remember his name, "Good morning."

He doffed his hat, bowing slightly, "Good morning Mrs. Hughes."

Still trying to remember his name she nodded, "Good morning. Was Mr. Carson expecting you?"

"No, not at all, I was hoping to bump into you this fine morning."

Tightening her hand on the door, she bristled at his words, "I can't imagine why that would be."

"Come on Mrs. Hughes, surely you would understand why a man would want to visit a woman such as yourself." The cold look from her made him laugh then raise his hands in surrender, "Actually I know you are not familiar with the area and I happen to know it quite well. Perhaps I can give you the benefit of my expertise?" The kettle whistled drawing Elsie's attention, "I wouldn't say no to a cuppa."

Turning back to him, exasperation filled her voice, "Very well, come in, I suppose."

He followed her into the kitchen, watching her bustle about. Charles Carson had certainly been hiding her away. "So Mrs. Hughes, what exactly is it that brings you to London at this time of the year?"

She placed a cup and saucer on the kitchen table and pushed it towards him keeping the table between them, "I'm sorry, I don't have any sugar or milk."

"It's fine, I don't like things too sweet." Elsie rolled her eyes hoping the delivery would arrive soon, "You didn't answer my earlier question."

"I noticed when the family was here for Lady Rose's wedding that things weren't quite up to par. I am here bringing things up to snuff before the season starts. Why exactly are you here, in London that is?"

"Unlike Mr. Carson, I am not the butler. I am the caretaker of all of the family's properties. I wander from home to home making sure things are tip top before the family arrives."

Taking a sip of her tea she raised an eyebrow, "That seems a lonely existence."

"What's to be lonely? I have the run of the house for weeks or months on end. I live in the lap of luxury with no one to answer to."

"To each his own I suppose."

He nodded, "I guess it's not for everyone. I rather like it. The best part I spend at least four months out of every year back home in Scotland." Elsie inhaled deeply at the thought, four months a year in Scotland. Mr. Henderson suppressed a smile, "Do you miss it?"

"I do. I miss my sister and her family. I miss the lushness of the countryside. Downton is lovely but it's not home."

"Do you get back often?"

She shook her head tightly, "No, every other year at best and then only for a week or two at most."

"I suppose with this change you won't even get that."

Elsie thought about it. She hadn't been able to visit this past summer because of Mrs. Bute's illness. She wouldn't be able to go this summer because she would once again be here for the season. It would be the following summer at the earliest and only then if her retirement went as planned. If the family couldn't find a suitable replacement it might be longer.

Mr. Henderson smiled knowing he'd found a weakness, "I shouldn't have mentioned it. I'm sure the family is appreciative of all that you do."

Raising her chin, almost defiantly, she smiled, "Yes, they are."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Charles woke slowly, slightly disoriented. He looked around the room and sat up in bed suddenly, glancing at the clock in the room certain it was late. He slumped into the bed as he realized it wasn't much past his normal time to wake.

Scrubbing his hand across his face he tried to remember the last time he'd felt this well-rested. Even with his interrupted evening he'd slept better than ever. He wondered if Elsie had slept as well. The image of her asleep last night filled his mind. His body reacted instantly. He groaned, this was going to be a problem.

Throwing off the covers he got out of the bed. Walking around the room, he thought of the day ahead in a vain attempt to distract him. He wanted to talk with her about the vendors Lady Grantham had suggested. If he had a list he could plan an outing for them which would allow them to fully enjoy the day.

As his thoughts turned to planning, his body slowly calmed. Wrapping his dressing gown around him, he opened the door. Her door was closed, he wondered if she had closed it during the night or if she was already awake. For a brief moment he thought of knocking then changed his mind. If she answered in the dressing gown he'd touched he wasn't sure he could control himself.

Shaking his head he walked quickly away from her door. In the bathroom he made short work of his morning ablution then dressed quickly. Returning to the room he'd used, he made the bed. He picked up his things, thinking he would return them to his attic room.

At the door he paused. Why should he go back? Why not stay here, live a little? Smiling to himself he draped his dressing gown over the foot of the bed, folded his pajamas and put them in the wardrobe. With a decidedly happier outlook, he left the room headed for the kitchen.

Walking through the house he hoped he beat her to the kitchen. He could start the tea, perhaps make breakfast for them, returning the favor from yesterday. Quickening his step he hurried to the kitchen. As he rounded the corner towards the kitchen he stopped. He could hear her talking to someone.

Unsure of who she was talking to, he paused for a moment. A smile lit his face as he heard her talk about her visits to Scotland. It suddenly occurred to him how the changes the family had made would affect her. She wouldn't be able to go home to visit her sister this year. He made a mental note to ask Lady Grantham about…

"I suppose with this change you won't even get that." Charles bristled with anger. He knew that voice. What was Mr. Henderson doing here? Why was he talking with Elsie? "I shouldn't have mentioned it. I'm sure the family is appreciative of all that you do."

He waited, anxiously, for her answer. "Yes, they are." There was something in her voice. Was she suggesting the family didn't care for them? Wasn't appreciative of their hard work? This woman who'd spent the night in a luxurious room courtesy of the family?

Rounding the corner, he straightened himself to his full height. His lips pressed together creating an angry line. They were together at the kitchen table, enjoying tea. She was entertaining him, this man…

They turned to look at him. Elsie smiled, happy to see him. She opened her mouth to tell him good morning. "Mrs. Hughes, what is the meaning of this? I would think with the amount of work you have to do you wouldn't be loitering with perfect strangers."


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

She blinked once, her mouth hung open. Remembering his behavior toward Mr. Henderson from the day before she assumed his anger was directed at Mr. Henderson. Surely he couldn't think she was interested in this man. Fellow Scotsman he might be but there was nothing about him she found appealing.

In as calming of a voice as she could muster, "I am not loitering, I was waiting for the…"

Henderson had eased closer to Elsie while she gaped at Charles until he stood almost possessively behind her, "Mrs. Hughes was kind enough to offer me a cup of tea when I stopped by to offer my services in showing her round the area."

Elsie started when she realized how close the man was to her. Taking a few steps away from him, moving her closer to Charles, she opened her mouth to clarify.

Charles watched the man stand behind Elsie. He was so close to her he could probably feel the heat coming off her body, "We don't need your help Mr. Henderson, not me and certainly not Mrs. Hughes."

Henderson smiled to himself, enjoying watching Charles Carson unravel in front of him, "I think that is for Mrs. Hughes to decide, not you."

Elsie watched the two men. Under different circumstance she might find this amusing, at the moment she was more concerned the two men might come to blows. Placing herself between them she turned her back to Charles, trying to present a united front. "Perhaps it's time you left Mr. Henderson. It was very kind of you to offer but I will be much too busy to see the area."

Keeping a watchful eye on Charles, he smiled at Elsie, "If you change your mind, I'm just across the road, in the larger house."

She rolled her eyes, feeling the tension roll off Charles' body, "It's a kind offer but I'm quite certain." She motioned toward the door, "Again, thank you for coming."

He turned toward the door, waiting until she was alongside him. His hand hovered, just over the small of her back, had she stopped walking he would have touched her. He opened the door and smiled down at her, "Thanks for the tea."

Forcing herself not to roll her eyes, she smiled tightly. "You're welcome."

Mr. Henderson stepped through the door and almost ran into the delivery boy. The young boy stepped back to let the man leave. He smiled cheekily back at her as he eyed the contents of the box, "I suppose breakfast is out of the question."

She laughed as she stepped aside for the delivery boy, this man was impossible. She couldn't tell if he was being deliberately obtuse or just poking fun, "Don't stir up trouble Mr. Henderson."

Suspecting Charles was busy with the delivery boy he took a step toward Elsie, "Perhaps I like trouble Mrs. Hughes. Perhaps you're the type of woman who deserves a bit of trouble every so often."

Certain he was teasing her now, she straightened her back and smiled, "If I ever go looking for trouble Mr. Henderson, it won't be from the likes of you."

A hearty laugh escaped him, echoing through the small courtyard and into the house, "Mrs. Hughes, a woman like you makes me miss Scotland."

"Mr. Henderson, I might miss Scotland but I don't miss Scottish men."

Knowing when he was defeated he bowed slightly to her, "Well said Mrs. Hughes. And if you change your mind about looking for a bit of trouble, you know where to find me." He turned and left with her watching. She repressed a giggle thinking what a foolish man he was.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

Charles watched her turn her back to him. She was still talking to the man, telling him how kind he was to offer but she wasn't out and out saying no, just that she was too busy. His blood boiled, how could she do this, after yesterday? Didn't she understand how he felt about her? All of those moments, they'd been so close to crossing the line. He'd thought she wanted it too.

She was escorting Henderson out, his hand was on her back. He would be able to feel her soft warmth. The door opened and he watched her step into the courtyard with the man, laughing at something he'd said.

Turning he stalked out of the room, needing to put distance between himself and them. He'd never felt so betrayed in his life. Once out of the door he slumped against the wall. Henderson's laughter echoed in the hallway. It was like a punch. Pushing himself away from the wall he shuffled to his office and closed the door.

* * *

><p>Elsie stepped back in the house a small smile on her face. Charles really couldn't have timed his blustery entrance any better had he tried. She'd really wanted Mr. Henderson to leave but wouldn't have just asked him to.<p>

She thought briefly of his anger and wondered if it was because of his years on the stage. It had been the perfect way to dispose of Mr. Henderson. For a single moment she entertained the thought he might actually be angry with her before dismissing it as ridiculous. The day before would surely have confirmed how she felt for him.

Turning the corner into the kitchen she was surprised to find the delivery boy standing in the middle of the kitchen, alone, still holding the box. "I'm so sorry you had to wait, I thought Mr. Carson was in here."

He smiled, "It's OK. Where would you like me to put the box?"

Waving her hand, she pointed to the kitchen table, "Right there's fine."

The young boy set the box down, "Do you need me to go through to see if anything is missing?"

"No, it won't be necessary. I didn't place the order so I wouldn't know if it were correct or not. Do you need me to sign something?"

He pulled the order slip from the box and handed it to her, "Yes ma'am."

She signed it quickly then handed it back to him, "Thank you for the early delivery."

Walking toward the door he laughed, "I don't mind at all. I think my boss is a bit scared of Mrs. Patmore. She threatened him with his life if the order wasn't here early."

Elsie rolled her eyes imagining the call, "It's probably a wise move on your boss's part. She is quite formidable."

He shrugged as he opened the door, "I think she's rather sweet. She always gives me a treat when I deliver. It's why I always volunteer."

Elsie smiled at his cheekiness, "Would you like a few pieces of shortbread?"

Nodding eagerly he smiled, "If you have a few to spare." Elsie quickly found the tin and offered them to him. "Thanks, these are the best I've ever eaten."

"I'll be sure to tell Mrs. Patmore you said that."

She watched the young boy leave then turned back to the box, quickly unpacking it and putting things away. It seemed Mrs. Patmore didn't want them to have to leave the house for any reason. She looked toward the door to the hallway a little concerned Charles hadn't returned to the kitchen, perhaps he'd answered the telephone.

With a quick nod of her head she decided to continue with her earlier plan, she would make breakfast then take it to him in his pantry. Perhaps they could have a continuation of the night before.

* * *

><p>Charles paced in his office, still angry with her. Why was she talking with the man? How was he supposed to spend the rest of the week in this house with her? They had almost kissed, twice. Was she punishing him for sending her away last night? Flirting with another man, trying to make him jealous?<p>

Stopping his pacing, he drew himself to full height. That's what it was, she was trying to make him jealous, pay him back for sending her away. Well it wouldn't work, he wouldn't be played the fool. He would tell her exactly what kind of man she was flirting with.

Turning to his desk, he went in search of his notepad. He wanted to compile his notes from the day before. The notebook was nowhere to be found. He wracked his brain trying to remember where it was.

His door opened, breaking his train of thought. He looked up to see a cart being rolled into his office. He stiffened, surely she wasn't bringing him breakfast after her display in the kitchen.

"Good morning Charles, I thought we might have some breakfast before our day begins. Perhaps even plan an outing for tomorrow to see the vendors if it is still something you would like to do?"

Elsie busied herself transferring the items from the cart to the small table in his office. She didn't notice him staring at her, anger gripping him, "Why on earth would I want to do that Mrs. Hughes?"

The coldness in his voice, combined with the use of her last name made her turn to look at him. His eyes were almost black, his body tense, "Charles, whatever is the matter with you?"

He lifted his chin, his lips disappearing in a line, "What is the matter with me? What is the matter with you Mrs. Hughes? I come downstairs to find you openly flirting with that gadabout Mr. Henderson. And you have the gall to ask, what's the matter with me?"

"Flirting? Is that what you think you saw?"

"Not only did I see it, I heard it. And I heard you disparage our family as well. The same family who insisted you sleep in a guest room last night." She blinked at him, suddenly realizing his bluster from earlier had not been an act to get rid of Mr. Henderson. "But if a man like Henderson is what you want, then you should understand exactly what you are getting. There isn't a housekeeper on the street he hasn't had a go at. And there are few who resisted, up to and including Mrs. Bute. You would be nothing more than a notch in his bedpost. He travels to all of the family's homes and probably has a gaggle of silly women at his beck and call in each location."

Drawing a very deep breath she turned to him, her face red from held back anger, "Is that what you think of me Charles Carson? That I am some naïve housemaid whose head would be turned by the likes of Mr. Henderson. I have been putting men like him firmly in their place for longer than you've been a butler." She took a step toward him, inwardly triumphant when he took a step back, "But based upon the way you are acting at this moment, perhaps it's not Mr. Henderson who needs to be put in his place. Perhaps you are the one who needs to be put in his place."

His voice was lower, more uncertain, "I know what I saw."

"You saw two people having tea. Mr. Henderson stopped by, I answered the door because I thought it was the delivery boy. Before I could get rid of him the kettle whistled. It was on because I was making tea…for us…so I could have breakfast ready for you when you came downstairs...so that we could continue our conversation from last night." She paused, letting the import of her words settle over him, "He heard it and invited himself in. Not knowing his relationship with the family, I let him in. I was trying to figure out a way to get rid of him when you came blustering along. I foolishly believed you knew me well enough to recognize my disdain for the man and had used your entrance to get rid of him. I was quite happy to see you this morning."

Charles blinked realizing what a mistake he'd made, "I don't…I mean…"

"Be quiet Mr. Carson." The coldness in her eyes was a contrast to the looks she'd given him yesterday. He now recognized the warmth he'd seen in the kitchen earlier, before he'd opened his mouth. He could see her beaming smile in the instant he had accused her of loitering. All of the feeling he'd longed for was written on her face and now it was gone. In the blink of an eye he had spoiled everything. He hung his head as she continued, "You don't get to take it back. You accused me of some horrible things. After the day we spent together yesterday, it is unforgivable. That you could believe after all of the time you have known me that my head would be turned by someone the likes of Mr. Henderson is insulting and hurtful. That you would think, for a moment, I could have an interest in anyone else after the day we had together yesterday is shameful."

"Elsie, please."

"No." She turned to leave his pantry. The notebook on the cart caught her eye. Picking it up, she turned to him, "You say Mr. Henderson is the type of man who would want me as another conquest but it wasn't his notebook I found on my bed last night." He blanched as she held it up. "What were you doing near my bed Mr. Carson? Picking out a spot to make your mark?" She threw the notebook at him and stormed from the room.

It hit him in the chest before he could react. Stunned he listened as her heels clicked down the hallway disappearing quickly. His hand went to his waistcoat, his fingers gripped the fabric and panic set in. What had he done? He chased into the hallway to go after her. As he looked and listened, trying to discern which way she'd gone, there was a knock at the door.

He knew it was one of the repairmen, he couldn't ignore it. Resigning himself to answering the door he promised as soon as the men were started he would seek her out, beg her forgiveness. He would tell her everything in his heart.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

Elsie stormed away, tears streaming down her face. How could this man she loved so dearly continue to treat her this way? More importantly, why did she continue to allow it? No more, she couldn't, wouldn't, continue to do this.

She opened the door to her room, entered then closed and locked the door before crumpling to the floor, tears streaming down her face. They burned her skin, a betrayal of all of her feelings. She would have taken him to her bed last night, into her body, had wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life.

Foolishly, she'd believed this week, alone with him, would be the culmination of the dance they had been performing for the last few decades. It would be the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. One where they were no longer scared of what was between them but finally accepted it, embraced it, let it sweep them away.

Pulling her legs to her chest she wrapped her arms around them, burying her face in her knees. She let the tears fall freely. Letting them wash away the pain which threatened to cripple her, a pain only Charles Carson ever seemed to cause her. She supposed he could only hurt her because she cared so much.

As her tears dried, she shook her head, shaking away the memory of his hurtful words. Elsie Hughes did not hide away. She did not hang her head and let some man defeat her. Pushing herself to a standing position she straightened her back. She had a job to do.

Her mind made up she decided it was the last job she would ever do for the Grantham's. She would put this house in order, complete her schedules, order the linens and return to Downton in the morning. With luck she could be back by mid-day, turn in her resignation and be on her way back to Scotland by the end of the week.

She'd been frugal over the years and had enough put by to live out her life. If she got too bored she could find work in a shop. Perhaps Joe Burns would still have her. Oh she knew it wouldn't be a grand love but there was something to be said for a quiet companionship. She would grow to love him, at least she knew he would never hurt her in such a careless fashion.

Taking her suitcase from the corner she placed it on the bed. She packed everything except a simple dress for the train ride tomorrow. Suddenly, she longed for her corset, desperate for the support, the barrier it provided. She didn't want to think about Charles' hands so close to her skin, didn't want to remember the heat emanating from them when he'd embraced her.

Her hand slid along her waist, feeling the difference. She wondered if she would ever be able to wear the brassiere and knickers again. Would they always make her think of him? She and the Dowager Countess would be the last women in modern England still wearing a corset.

Her eyes fell to her dressing gown and the matching negligee. If she'd had a replacement in her case she would have flung the offending items into the fire. She'd purchased them with him in mind, imagining what he would think, how he would react. It didn't matter now. She would dispose of them when she returned to Downton. Cut them into scraps, never wanting a reminder of the promise they once held.

Dawdling in her room wouldn't achieve her goals. She straightened her dress, took a quick glance in the looking glass then headed out to finish her list of things to do. He might have more experience with this house but she was still a housekeeper. If she didn't want to be found, he wouldn't find her.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Charles opened the door abruptly greeting the workers on the other side. His conversation with Elsie on a constant loop in his head. How could he have read the scene so incredibly wrong? Looking at it now he saw all of things she had done which proved how she felt for him.

The way she'd stepped away from Henderson, moving closer to him. She'd put herself between them knowing he would never push past her no matter how much the man might infuriate him. Her tone of voice had been the one she used to placate squabbling footmen or housemaids. The one which seemed sensible and kind but was laced with a steel undertone. How had he missed it all?

Then, once she'd dispensed of Henderson, she'd made breakfast for him. Loaded down a cart and wheeled it into his office. Her only thoughts had been of him and planning an outing with him. And he had returned the favor by acting like a jealous schoolboy. Once again pushing her away, saying horrible, cruel things he didn't mean. Only yesterday he'd promised her he would do better and now he'd been worse to her than ever.

"Mr. Carson…"

He shook his head, drawing his attention back to the workmen, he needed to get them started and then he could find her, tell her…tell her what? "This way, I hope you don't mind if I don't stay with you the whole time. I've other things to attend to in the house."

"No, Mr. Carson, this might take us awhile, no need for you to have to stand around and watch us."

Charles nodded as he opened the door to the boiler room, "Very well, I will be in my office most likely if I'm not, just wait I should be back quickly. If I am going to be away for long I will come find you and let you know where to find me. Do you have an idea how long it will take?"

The man nodded as he and his helpers started to spread out and unpack their equipment, "A couple of hours at least. I don't know how you slept in the attics last night."

Charles smiled as he remembered where he slept, "I didn't. The family was kind enough to allow us to stay in guest rooms last night."

"Us, is there someone else with you on this trip Mr. Carson?"

He nodded, anxious to be away from this man, "Yes, Mrs. Hughes, the housekeeper from Downton is here. She will be taking over this house as well this season and wanted some time to get things back to her standards."

"It's a good time of the year to do that. If we can't find you should we ask her any questions?"

Charles blustered, "No." He didn't want this man, or any other man, speaking with her. Seeing the odd look on the man's face he took a deep breath calming himself, "No, she isn't as familiar with the house and probably wouldn't be able to help you. However, she usually knows where I am. So if you see her, she can probably help you with that."

The man nodded and Charles walked quickly to his office. The abandoned cart was a knife twisting in his chest. All of his favorites were there. She had prepared him the perfect breakfast and now it was ruined. Absently he picked up a piece of toast and nibbled from the end.

It was cardboard in his mouth. He thought back to the delightful breakfast from the day before, the romantic dinner spent in his office. All ruined because of a single moment of blinding jealousy. Jealousy he had no right to feel. She'd never given him a single reason to doubt how she felt about him. He, on the other hand, had pushed her away on more occasions than he cared to count.

Even today when she was angrier than he'd ever seen her she'd made her feelings clear. Questioning how he could think she had feelings for anyone else. The implication was clear, how could she have feelings for anyone else but him?

Packing up the food he wheeled the cart to the kitchen, cleaning the mess. He hated to see the food go to waste but knew, even if he forced himself to eat it, it would make him ill. The food was tainted. Tainted by his betrayal of her, tainted by his treatment of her.

His hand drifted to the pocket of his waistcoat, seeking comfort from its contents. He panicked, his fingers dipping into the pocket, it was empty. He began to pat down his other pockets, needing to find it. His brain worked overtime trying to remember where it might be, the carefully folded handkerchief. An image of it on the nightstand in his bedroom in the attics flashed through his mind.

He was almost at the stairs when there was another knock at the kitchen door. Cursing he looked at the clock and realized it was another of the tradesmen he had scheduled yesterday, in his quest to push everything into today so he would be free tomorrow. Rushing back to the door, he said a silent prayer there would still be a tomorrow for them. That he hadn't destroyed all of their tomorrows with his careless words.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Elsie had busied herself around the house all morning. This was the first time she'd been below stairs since storming out of his office this morning. She needed the list Lady Grantham had given her the day before and something to eat.

In all honesty she hadn't needed the recommendations from Lady Grantham. She'd asked around when she'd been here for Lady Rose's wedding. All of the housekeepers she'd spoken to had recommended a specific vendor. The vendor had been on Lady Grantham's list all she needed was the name other housekeepers had given her. It was in the notebook in her office.

The tricky part would be getting into his office to place the call. She waited at the foot of the stairs, listening for his footsteps. Not hearing them she tiptoed to her office, slipping in unnoticed. Closing the door behind her she quickly found the notebook.

The number, along with a name was right where she needed. She spent a few minutes organizing the order so she could spend as little time on the phone as necessary. Finally, she gathered the few personal items she had in the office and picked them up.

At the door, she listened for him again. She was just about to open the door when his voice echoed through the hallway, "Give me just a moment to collect my list. Then we can walk through the house and look at the items which require attention."

She stood quietly, listening. She could hear him shuffling through his office, then his footsteps in the hallway. He paused for a moment outside her office door and her heart stopped. She held her breath, could he possibly know she was in here.

After what seemed a lifetime she heard him walking away and breathed a sigh of relief. She waited, counting to a hundred twice before easing across the hallway into his office closing the door behind her, she quickly walked to his desk and picked up the telephone.

Ten minutes later her order was complete. They could deliver everything later the next day. Charles would still be here, he could sign for it. She would leave him a note before she left in the morning. Now she had to find food so she wouldn't need to come down again until she left tomorrow.

She picked up her things and took one quick glance around his desk to make sure she wasn't leaving anything out of place. Her eyes were drawn to the chair which seemed to dominate the room. She remembered sitting in it the night before, how his smell had wafted from it. A scent which seemed so quintessentially masculine, the warmth of the fire had heightened it and lulled her to sleep. She wondered briefly if it would be the same to sleep in his arms.

Shaking her head she brushed away a tear. It didn't matter, she would never know and dwelling on it would make it harder to move on, to do what she needed to do the next day. Cracking open the door she listened. When she didn't hear him she stepped into the hallway, remembering to leave his door open.

She ran into the hallway then quickly into the kitchen. She cut several slices of bread and chicken from last night's dinner. Adding slices of cheese and apple she looked at the tin of shortbread. He wouldn't notice it was gone since he didn't care for it. She debated making a pot of tea but wasn't sure she had the time. Finally deciding it was better to do without she placed all of her items on a tray and headed to her room.

Once in her room she put her tray on the table. Picking up the bucket she decided to refill it so she wouldn't need to leave the room again unless she needed to use the washroom. Back in her room she locked the door then sat to eat her meal.

She ate one slice of bread, half of the chicken and a few slices of cheese. She would leave the remainder for later in the evening and the apple for in the morning. Covering the tray she moved it to the dresser then moved to the desk.

She opened the drawer and found several pieces of paper inside. She took them out, took her pen and wrote the letter she would leave for him.

_Charles,_

_I'm not sure why I'm even bothering to write this, you made it perfectly clear earlier today how you feel and what you think about me. However, I don't want you to worry. By the time you read this, I will already be on the train back to Downton. _

_It's only fair that you understand why I wanted to come to London this week. My hope was being here, alone, you and I would finally let down those last walls we've so carefully constructed. _

_I've loved you for as long as I can. These last few years I've fooled myself into believing you loved me as well. I can't believe how wrong I was. You don't love me at least not the way I need to be loved. Perhaps there was a time I would have settled for being your second priority but no longer._

_As I get older, I know I don't want to be someone's second choice, their consolation prize if you will. I want to be the reason you get up in the morning, the person you long to go through life with. You won't ever let anyone in, let anyone replace the family in your heart. _

_When I return to Downton I will inform Lady Grantham I am leaving. I can't stay knowing I will always be second fiddle. It's simply not enough. I will always love you Charles; it's just time I loved myself more._

_Don't follow me, if you've ever cared for me, please let me go. I probably won't ever be as happy away from you but I will hopefully find some equilibrium, some way to make a life for myself, to live a little._

_Always,_

_Elsie_


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

**There are two updates today. Back up read chapter 44 (we'll wait for you).**

Charles returned to his pantry for just a moment, hoping he would find her in her sitting room. He'd come through here multiple times hoping to catch her. The last of the workmen were gone, they were once again alone in the house.

His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since the night before. His hand found its way to his waistcoat. Remembering it was empty he turned to head to his room in the attics. At the door he paused, he could smell her. He looked around. He crossed to her sitting room and knocked lightly on the door.

When there was no answer he opened the door, sticking his head into the room. She wasn't here, not just physically but there wasn't anything of her in this room. He imagined how this room would transform as she took ownership of it. Would it be as comfortable as her sitting room at the Abbey? Would its mere existence bring him the same comfort? She didn't know how often he went into her sitting room during a day just to have a moment's peace.

A quick tug at his waistcoat reminded him of what he needed to do. He closed her sitting room door and hurried up the stairs towards the attics. He was breathing hard by the time he made it to his room. Barreling into the room his eyes frantically searched until he saw the handkerchief on the nightstand.

He lifted the carefully folded fabric and opened it. Nestled into the square was a thin white gold band with a delicate chain style Celtic knot worked into the sides. He plucked it from the handkerchief letting the metal heat in his hands.

His heart calmed, his breathing eased. Lowering himself to his bed, tears filled his eyes. It was the first time he hadn't had it in his waistcoat pocket since he'd bought it 20 years earlier. The ring had been his talisman all of these years.

He loved her, he always had but he knew he couldn't love her the way she deserved to be loved, the way he wanted to love her, and still serve the family. It wouldn't be fair to her, to them. What would he do if he couldn't win her back? What if he couldn't convince her he was ready to take this step?

Carefully folding the ring into the handkerchief he tucked it into his waistcoat. Standing he packed his bag then carried it down the stairs to the guest room. He had no intention of sleeping in the attics again tonight. He had no intention of sleeping alone tonight or any other night if he was lucky.

Quickly putting his things away he left the room. He had to put the finishing touches on his plan. He looked across the room at her door. Walking across the hallway he thought about knocking then thought better of it. She wouldn't be there. She'd been too careful today, avoiding him and he didn't blame her.

Softly he stroked the door hoping what he had planned would be enough. All he could do was try, he couldn't live without her. He knew it. He didn't want to be anywhere she wasn't. Offering a prayer to the heavens he set off to put his plans into place.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

Charles looked around the room, his careful eye taking in all of the details. He needed everything to be perfect, he would accept nothing less; he would give her nothing less. He looked down at his clothes and almost changed his mind.

He was clothed in only his trousers, shirt and underclothes. He'd removed his jacket, waistcoat and tie. He liked to think if they were alone in their home he would dress more comfortably. He needed her to understand it was the man, not the butler, asking, no begging, her to allow him to spend the rest of his life with her.

He touched his hand to his pocket, tracing the outline of the ring. His eyes closed as he whispered a small prayer, if ever there was a time he needed divine intervention it was at this moment. Now he just needed a way to get her downstairs.

As he was letting the last of the workmen out he'd noticed the missing biscuit tin. He'd looked around and noticed a few other missing items. He knew then she didn't plan on coming down again. She would continue to avoid him.

Striking a match, he put the final touches to his display. He walked to the door of his pantry, turned the switch to put out the lights and took one last glance into the room.

* * *

><p>Elsie had fallen asleep. The stress of the day finally overtaking her. The chimes woke her, startling her from her rest. She focused on it, trying to place the noise. It was the dressing gong. She tried to remember if Charles had told her it was being repaired.<p>

She stretched across the bed before shifting her legs to the side. Deciding she could wash up now then return to her room she stood, collected her night things and entered the hallway. She looked around to make sure Charles wasn't waiting for her. In the hallway, the gong rang again.

Concern ran through her. What if something were wrong? What if Charles was ill? The gong would be the only way he could get her attention. He would have figured out by now she was hiding from him. She couldn't ignore it.

Hurriedly she returned to her room, leaving her things on the bed. She opened the door to the servant's stairs and rushed down them. Her heart pounding at the thought something might be wrong. Once below stairs she rushed into the kitchen, desperately looking for him. A quick glance into the servant's hall told her he wasn't there either.

She turned into the hallway which led to his pantry and her sitting room and anger flashed for a moment. Surely he wouldn't have used such a cheap ploy to get her to come to him. For a moment she thought of returning to her room, leaving him wanting, it would serve him right. However, something about the light flickering from his door worried her. It wasn't the steady light she'd grown accustomed to from the electric lights which were now common above and below stairs. This light was unsteady, waxing and waning with an inconsistency which frightened her.

Memories of the fire at the Abbey flashed through her mind. The abject terror she'd experienced until she'd seen him outside the building, safe and sound. Quietly, she crept towards the door of his pantry.

* * *

><p>Charles watched her from the partially open door of her sitting room. He could see all of the anxiety and tension in her body. Her uncertainty played across her face. There was no doubt in his mind she was thinking of running. It hurt him, knowing he'd put this doubt in her, this distrust. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her back quite so rigid, he wondered for a moment if she had put on her corset.<p>

He watched her turn the corner into his pantry, holding his breath until he saw all of the tension left her body. He heard the strangled cry which escaped her mouth, saw her hand go to her face. She stepped deeper into the pantry.

He made his way across the hall wondering if trapping her in his pantry was such a good idea. If she reacted badly he promised himself he would let her go, but he didn't want her running off before he could say anything. He stopped quietly in the doorway and waited.

* * *

><p>She stared at the sight before her. A perfectly set table, candles, a blazing fire. She gasped when she realized he'd used the family's china and crystal. What was this?<p>

She walked into the room, noticing more details of the table. Her name was carefully etched on a place card. A single rose lay across the plate. Tears filled her eyes. She reached up to wipe one away. She lifted the rose holding it to her nose, its sweet fragrance filling her nose. The card on the plate caught her attention.

Her name was elegantly scrawled on it. She picked it up pulling the card from it. Two words were carefully written on it: _Turn around._


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

**Two updates today. Back up and read 46 if you haven't already. I'll just wait here with my glass of wine.**

The rose and the note fell to the ground as she turned. He was standing in the doorway, watching her, a nervous expression on his face. Her eyes took in the sight of him in just his shirtsleeves. She'd seen him in fewer clothes but this was somehow more intimate, "What is the meaning of all this Mr. Carson?"

He winced inwardly at the return of formality, "It's dinner Elsie, for you, us."

"After our conversation this morning, what could possibly make you think I wish ever to eat another meal with you?"

He swallowed, recognizing the hurt in her voice she was trying to mask with anger and indignation. "Elsie, all I ask is for five minutes. If at the end of five minutes I haven't changed your mind, you can leave, return to your room and I won't ever bother you again."

Standing impossibly straighter she fixed him with an icy gaze, "It's not as if I have a choice, you are blocking me in here."

"I will move from the doorway if you promise me you will listen to me, without interruption, for five minutes."

"And I am free to leave after, you won't stop me?" He nodded. Tears filled her eyes, "Because I can't imagine what you could possibly say that would make me forgive you."

Charles stepped away from the door, leaving it open. He prayed she wouldn't bolt through it. He'd promised himself he would let her go if she ran but he hoped she would give him the five minutes. "You can leave now if you want, but I hope you will give me five minutes."

"You've had more than 20 years Mr. Carson, do you really think five minutes are going to make a difference?"

"It might not but I won't be able to live with myself if I don't at least try. Do I have your word?"

Looking away from him slightly, trying to will the tears not to fall, "Go on then."

"I'm sorry Elsie." Her head snapped back to him, the first tear fell. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier today, I'm sorry for every single time I was unnecessarily rude to you, for pushing you away when I should have pulled you to me."

He paused, watching her. She continued to stare at him, tears falling freely down her cheeks. He desperately wanted to pull her to him, wipe away her tears, hold her. "I am a foolish man Elsie. I've loved you from the first moment I heard your voice almost 30 years ago. Had I been a braver man I would have begged you then to run away with me. Instead I kept you at an arm's length. I knew, even then, if I ever let you in it would be at the expense of all else."

Elsie turned away from him, he could see her wiping the tears from her face. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not so he continued, "Over the last few years, I've fooled myself into thinking you knew how I felt, that you understood it has always been you. That somehow we were in agreement, that you knew how desperately I loved you. Because I do, I love you, always have, always will."

A gasp escaped her, he took a step toward her, "But how could you know? I never showed you, I never told you. If anything my actions proved just the opposite. Because I knew the moment I let you in, admitted to you how I felt, I would want to spend the rest of my life with you, to the exclusion of all else."

Her head snapped back to him, blue eyes impossibly big. He took another step toward her, his hand went to his pocket, removing the handkerchief. She recognized it at once, she'd loaned it to him more than 20 years ago. He was unfolding it flat on his hand.

Her brow furrowed as the handkerchief fell open revealing its contents. The firelight glinted off the metal. She looked up, meeting his eyes. Tears brimmed in his eyes, there was a look of such fear on his face.

He lifted the ring from his hand, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've no right to ask and you've every right to tell me no and walk away. But I sincerely hope you will take pity on this foolish man and let me spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you."


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

**Happy Christmas. I am watching the Christmas Special as I post this. Shhhh, don't tell me what happens.**

She blinked, tears spilling down her face. She stared at the ring, so small in his large hand. His words played through her mind, of course she'd known, daft, silly man. Of course, she hadn't known it had been for so long. She wasn't even sure she'd loved him that long.

"Elsie, I am asking you to marry me."

She looked up at him, "I know Charles."

His heart leapt at the return of his name, "Well?"

She shook her head, "I don't know Charles."

Anger flashed through him but he quickly suppressed it, "Will you at least have dinner with me?"

"Why?"

"You have to eat."

She shook her head, anger starting to build, "I don't mean dinner, why now, why are you asking me? If you've loved me all of this time. Are you doing this just to end an argument? To make me stay?" She looked at him pleadingly, "Why?"

He took another step toward her, "No, I'm not trying to end an argument, I hope you'll spend the rest of our lives arguing with me. I'm asking because I realized I am tired of living in limbo. I want to live and I want to do it with you." He was reaching for her when her words finally registered, "What do you mean make you stay?"

"I was planning to leave in the morning. Return to Downton, retire, go back to Scotland."

He closed the distance between them, standing as close as he could without touching her, "Were or are Elsie?"

She looked up at him, biting on her lower lip, "I don't know Charles."

"Do you love me Elsie?"

Tears spilled from her eyes, she nodded, "For so long."

He wiped the tears from her eyes, she leaned into his hands. Her eyes closing as she sighed with pleasure, "May I kiss you?"

Her eyes opened, all of the love she'd longed for was right there in his eyes. To hell with making him come to her, she pushed up, capturing his lips with her own. She pulled at him, wanting, needing him as close as possible. Her tongue forced its way past his lips, demanding more from him.

Charles wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible. His hands wandered down her back lost in the warm softness of her. They stopped at her waist, squeezing tightly. She moaned into his mouth encouraging him. The noise both emboldened him and cooled him.

He pushed against her, breaking the kiss. The lust filled look in her eyes almost made him change his mind. His words from earlier in the day and her words as she threw his notebook at him echoed in his mind, "Elsie, we don't have to do this. I don't want you to think I expect anything."

She looked at him, confused. "What?"

He looked down sheepishly, "What you said earlier about my notebook?" She shook her head not understanding then laughed as she remembered what she'd said. "I don't think of you in that way Elsie."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers raking through his hair, "Mr. Carson, what makes you so sure I don't think of you in that way?"

He laughed, pulling her tighter, "You'll have to answer my question first. I'll not have you turning me into fallen man."

She giggled, curling her body into his. He held her as her laughter washed away all of her tension and nerves. Finally she placed a tender kiss to his chest as she looked up at him, "Yes, Charles. I will marry you." He lowered his head to kiss her but she placed her finger on his lips stopping him. "I think we might need to eat first."

He blinked, staring at her in disbelief, "Are you sure?"

Pushing up she kissed him lightly, "Positive, you're going to need all of the strength you can muster."


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

Charles blushed at the implication of her words, "Elsie, that was quite risqué."

Raising her eyebrow at him, she smiled, "Exactly as I intended Charles. We're engaged now, I think we can be as risqué as we want."

He took her hand, slipping the ring on her finger. "As always, you are absolutely correct." He stepped around her and pulled out the chair, "For you, my lady."

Sitting she smiled up at him, "Thank you sir."

Charles leaned over kissing her lightly, "I hope you're hungry, my love"

"Famished, have you cooked for us?"

He laughed as he walked to the tray and began lifting lids from dishes, "Trust me, you don't want anything I might cook. I can manage breakfast, sandwiches if pressed, beyond that I am hopeless in the kitchen."

The smell of the food wafted through the room, "You made breakfast smell this delicious."

He laughed as he placed a perfectly prepared plate in front of her, "No, but one of the advantages of spending three to four months a year here is I know quite a few people in the restaurant business. I made a few calls this afternoon and managed to have a few items delivered." He set his plate at his chair then sat, "It won't be as good as if we went there but it should provide us sustenance."

Tears glistened in her eyes, "You did all of this for me?"

He met her gaze and smiled. Reaching across the table he took her hand, "I did this for us, Elsie. I heard what you said this morning. You were right, I let my jealousy override my trust in you. I know all about Mr. Henderson and the thought he might touch you, might catch your eye enraged me. I couldn't think straight."

"I love you Charles Carson. There's never been anyone but you."

He looked away, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Alice."

"What on earth are you sorry for?"

"I have been in love before or at least I thought I was."

Taking a sip of her wine she smiled, "Charles, everyone has a past, it's what makes us who we are."

He smiled, wondering why she always let him off the hook, forgave him his foolishness. "I'm not sure I deserve you."

Suppressing a desire to roll her eyes she took a bite of food, "Probably not, but you're stuck with me now."

"Then I am a very lucky man."

"Yes, you are. Now eat your meal or you won't get your dessert."


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

**Honestly, I planned this to be a 25-30 chapter fic. They would flirt, have hot sex, get married, retire and take care of Bates & Molesley kids between having more sex. Here we are at chapter 50 and they still haven't had sex... What am I doing wrong?**

He blushed at her words, looking down at his plate. They ate in silence, enjoying the food and their newfound agreement.

"Charles, I do have one question."

He looked up from his plate, "Anything Elsie."

"The handkerchief, the one you had the ring wrapped in." He nodded. "I loaned it to you 20 years ago."

He nodded, smiling, "Yes, you did."

"It's only, I seem to remember you returning said handkerchief to me 20 years ago Charles."

He nodded, looking away, "I returned a handkerchief to you but not yours."

"As I recall, it looked exactly like the one in your pocket."

He pulled it from his pocket, setting it on the table. "I paid a woman in the London to match it. I wanted to keep this one."

"Why Charles?"

"If you'll remember, you gave it to me when we were leaving for the season. I'd cut my hand on a case."

"I remember it Charles."

Taking a sip of his wine he settled back in his chair, "I washed it the first chance I had. I didn't want it to stain. Then I pressed it, folded it and put it in my pocket. Throughout the season, each time I was upset or out of sorts, I would pull it out and it calmed me. I knew by the end of the season I couldn't give it back."

"So you had a duplicate made?"

Nodding, he met her eye, "So I had a duplicate made."

Elsie reached across the table, taking his hand, "I would have given it to you. You could have told me it was stained and beyond repair."

"No, I could never have lied to you. And I didn't want you to be without."

"I went without it for almost four months Charles."

"There was another reason I wanted it."

Shaking her head, "What?"

He turned her hand over, his thumb traced the ring on her hand. "I bought this that season too. I've kept it wrapped in your handkerchief for all of these years."

She linked their fingers together, "It's why you tug at your waistcoat, isn't it?"

He nodded, "Yes, just knowing it's there soothes me. I couldn't touch you but I could touch a part of you."

Her eyes darkened, she tightened her grip on his hand, "I'm right here Charles and I'm all yours. You can touch me all you like."

"Elsie, we don't have to, I mean I don't want you to…"

She stood, walking around the table to stand over him. Gently she cupped his cheek, "Charles, when have you ever known me to do something I don't want to do."

"Never."

"Do you not want me?"

He covered her hand, "Don't ever think that Elsie." He stood, pulling her to him, "I've wanted you for so long."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

A mischievous grin crossed his face, "You did say something about dessert."


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

**Glad to know you guys are willing to hang in there for a few more chapters. Now let's have some apple tart.**

"There is almost an entire apple tart for you to enjoy."

Leaning down, he kissed her lightly, teasingly. "Apple tart is nice."

"As I told you, it's not really my favorite," she pushed up, kissing him a bit more firmly.

His hand touched her waist, pulling her closer to him. A shock of electricity ran through him when she moaned. He spread his hand wider, touching more of her, before slowly moving it up her side, bringing it to rest just beneath her breast.

He could just feel the weight of her breast and his body responded. The softness of her body compelled him closer but he didn't want to scare her with his arousal. He attempted to shift the lower half of his body away from her.

Elsie sighed as his hand caressed her waist. The size of it took her breath away. It seemed to cover her entire waist. Her eyes slid closed with pleasure as his hand made its way up her side, coming to rest under her breast. She pushed forward into his hands, wanting more. Her eyes opened as she felt his arousal pressing into her, moisture pooled between her legs.

She saw the concern on his face, felt him start to pull away. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pulled him to her, "No, Charles." He started to speak and she stopped him, nuzzling into the opening of his shirt.

His head fell back, a visceral moan escaped his lips. He pulled her closer, grinding into her. Her hands released him, moving to unbutton his shirt more. She pulled down his undershirt and placed a single open mouthed kiss to the skin on his chest.

She could taste him, the salty tang of sweat and something else. Something unique to him, she could never hope to discern all of the tastes but she needed more. Her fingers moved across his buttons, unfastening them quickly, pushing the shirt out of her way. She pulled on his undershirt, pushing it up. Her mouth returned to his chest, tongue tracing a path across it. She nipped at his skin, her fingers played through the coarse hair.

He watched her, mesmerized. How was he so lucky? This amazing creature had not only agreed to marry him, she wanted him. The feel of her mouth on his skin shocked him, thrilled him, aroused him. Her hands at his waistband broke the spell. She'd brushed against his arousal and he'd almost spilled himself.

He stayed her hands, she almost fell when he released her waist. The wildness in her eyes almost made him take her, there, on the floor of his office. Catching her easily, he pulled her back to him, kissing her lightly, "Elsie, I don't want our first time to be a quick fumble on the floor of my office."

She blinked, trying to get his words to register through the haze of lust. She fought against him, didn't he understand how desperately she needed this, needed him. "I need you Charles."

Gods she was going to be the death of him, "I know, my love and I feel the same. But I want you in a proper bed."

Anger flared in her, "I don't call what you sleep in in the attics a proper bed Charles."

Lowering his head, he nuzzled her neck, nipping at the skin before soothing it with his tongue. "Neither do I. But we do have two other rooms we could use, both equipped with large, comfortable beds."

She pulled back, shocked at his suggestion, "But you said…"

His hand slid up her side again, cupping her breast. He squeezed it before flicking his thumb across her hardened nipple. His other arm supported her weight as she arched into him a strangled moan escaping her mouth. He captured her mouth in a bruising kiss, leaving her breathless. "I reconsidered. Now, which would you rather, a hard floor or a comfortable bed."

"I suppose the floor will always be there."


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

**Dessert continues.**

Charles took her hand leading her through the house. At the hallway where their rooms were he paused, looking down at her, "Which room would you prefer?"

Pulling him lightly, she led him to her room. As she opened the door she smiled back at him, "There's a fire already lit in mine. We might never have to leave the bed."

He laughed, shocked and delighted at her words. His hand in hers he let her lead him to the bed. At the side of the bed she pushed him slightly. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for her. She easily batted away his hands before capturing one.

Gently removing one cufflink, she kissed the inside of his wrist before placing his hand on her hip, sighing as he squeezed gently. Taking his other hand she kissed each of his knuckles as she deftly removed the other cufflink. As he moved to place his hand on her other hip to pull her to him she took a step away. She placed his cufflinks carefully on the nightstand. Smiling at him, still out of reach, she reached up and slowly pulled the pins from her hair. It fell like silk to her shoulders, cascading down her back.

His gasp made her smile as she stepped back between his legs. She pushed his shirt away from his shoulders then helped him remove each arm. Again she stepped away, carefully folding his shirt and hanging it over the back of a chair.

He watched her, moving so freely, undressing him so casually. He wanted to pull her to him but felt he needed to let her set the pace. At least with this slower pace he felt he might have some control over his arousal. Her nails raking across his bare skin as she lifted his undershirt notched up his arousal, letting him know there was no chance of control. He lifted his arms letting her pull it over his head. She stepped closer to him and suddenly her scent enveloped him. All thoughts of letting her set the pace melted away.

Elsie felt him tense when she stepped between his legs to slide his shirt over his head. His inhale of breath excited her. She tightened her grip on his shirt, capturing both hands with his shirt. Leaning in she nipped at his lips, capturing his lower lip between her teeth. She pushed into him, her chest lightly brushing his naked chest, delighting in the moan she felt rumble through him.

He felt her tighten the shirt around his hands and let her have her moment of control. He could have easily escaped but knew she was telling him things about herself with her little game. When her lips touched his then her teeth grasped his lower lip, it took all of his restraint not to break free of her grasp. The feel of her shirt against his bare chest was another test. He groaned with restraint as he pushed towards her, trying to deepen her kiss.

She pulled back when she felt him press forward, enjoying her teasing game. Her tongue lapped across his lips, soothing where she had nipped at him. His mouth opened, begging for her to kiss it. She leaned forward, let him feel her breath on his lips. Then as his eyes clothes and he moved forward she deftly moved to the side. Her lips caressed his cheek, finding their way to his ear. She teased his earlobe, licking then biting.

He buried his face in her hair, luxuriating in the feel of it. He would gladly let her tease him for as long as she wanted if he could stay buried in her hair. It slid like water across her skin, finally falling away. He chased after it and found the bare skin of her neck. Opening his mouth he latched onto her neck, caressing it with his tongue, sucking, teasing, pressing.

He was rewarded for his efforts by a gasp, then a whimper as he sucked harder at her neck. One of her hands dropped from where they had been holding his own arms captive. Her fingers grasped his head, pulling on his hair, arching her neck to get more attention from his greedy mouth.

He snaked one hand free from its prison. Slowly he moved it into her hair, tangling into it, pulling her closer. She stepped deeper between his legs, he tightened them around her, holding her firmly to him. His free hand began to move from the tangle of her hair, caressing the back of her neck before tracing a blazing trail to the front of her blouse. Quickly, he unbuttoned it and claimed his reward of her naked skin. His warm hand splayed across her stomach made her drop her grip on his shirt, freeing his other hand.

She gasped at the heat of his hand on her bare skin. The hand which had been holding his shirt released, she pulled him to her, trying to wrap herself around him. He caught her with his free hand, used his body to bend her backward over his leg. His mouth which had been sucking on her neck moved steadily lower.

Tightening her grip on his hair, she tried to guide him, needed to kiss him, needed to feel his lips against hers. He let her pull at his hair, ignoring her guidance, knowing what she wanted, but he wanted something else first. Opening his eyes he spared a quick glance at the item she was wearing beneath her blouse. It was lacy and silky and absolutely captivating. With no idea how to remove it, he lowered his head taking the firm peak he could see clearly through the material into his mouth.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

**This is now officially the longest sex scene I have ever written.**

She melted the moment his mouth latched onto her breast. A gasp escaped her mouth. Her back arched pushing deeper into his mouth. She tightened her grip on his hair holding him to her, head falling back her eyes slid shut all she could think about was his mouth.

He balanced her weight, it was nothing really. The stern, formidable housekeeper was tiny, or maybe it was just tiny by comparison. He sucked at her nipple pulling it deeper into his mouth, his hand came up to cup it from below, squeezing gently.

He saw her head fall back as her hand tightened in his hair, pulling it. Holding her tighter he ran his tongue over the taut peak, circling it, feeling the rough edge of the lace covering it. He wondered if she could feel his tongue or only the sensation of the lace against her sensitive skin. Another gasp escaped her and it traveled quickly through his body, making him impossibly harder. Her legs shifted and brushed against him, he moaned into her.

His lips against her breast had only been the start. Now she could feel the warm, wetness of his tongue. It brushed against the lace of her brassiere. The material scraped across her, heightening the sensation. She spared a brief thought to what his tongue would feel like on her skin and moaned at the thought. He pulled her tighter to him and she could feel his arousal against her legs. She shifted, wanting to feel it pressed against her, into her.

The hand she didn't have tangled in his hair moved toward him. It slid down his shoulder, delicately across his side, reaching for his waistband. She pulled herself up, closer to him, curling into him. Her hand on a steady path to touch him.

He felt her shift in his arms, pressing her hip into him. She writhed against him, her hand on his side. His tongue continued to circle her nipple and suddenly the lace was an obstacle he wanted gone. The hand cupping her breast moved up, he lifted his mouth, felt her cry as he broke contact. Their eyes met, slowly he slid the lacy material down exposing her to him. His thumb slid across her nipple feeling the pebbly texture for the first time.

With his eyes locked on her, he lowered his head. Finally, his tongue touched her naked skin. It was the most intimate thing she'd ever experienced. She wasn't innocent, there had been others but this was so much more than anything that had come before. She bit down on her lower lip, watching him. His tongue swirled around her nipple, creating ripples of desire through her body.

He watched her, watching him. It took every ounce of his restraint. He'd wanted to close his eyes, savor this moment. His tongue on her flesh, the taste of her, the feel of her. It was more than anything he'd ever known. There had been other women, but always quick fumbles in dark places, nothing he would call intimate beyond the act itself. He didn't want this to be quick, he wanted to take his time, map the contours of her body.

Pulling her tighter to him, he gave in to his impulse, latched onto her breast slowly sucking it into his mouth. His tongue swirling around her nipple making it tighten even more. A gasping moan from her was his reward, if she kept making those noises he wouldn't last much longer. His hands moved to her waist, finding the clasp of her skirt. Fumbling for just a second, he unbuttoned it. His hands slid into the opened fabric, pushing it down her legs. He felt it pool at their feet.

His hands cupped her bottom pulling her hips into him. The movement pulled her breast from his mouth. They both groaned at the loss of contact.

Elsie tugged at his hair, pulling his head up. Before he could respond she captured his lips in a bruising kiss. She pushed into him, pressing her partially clothed body to his bare chest. The heat from his skin warmed her, lighting even more of a fire. Her hands moved down his body finding the fastening of his pants. She tried to touch him, there, but the space was too tight. She groaned in frustration, pulling at him, needing him to stand.

Charles laughed at her frustration, pulling her closer, enjoying her attempts to escape. He softened the kiss, worshipping her mouth. His hand moved up to cup her face as he broke the kiss, "Something wrong my love."

"You have on entirely too many clothes Charles."

He fought a smile, failing miserably. Motioning down to his feet, "What were you going to do had you managed to get me to stand?"

She looked down to his feet still encased in his shoes and laughed, "I hadn't thought that far in advance."

Lowering his head, he placed gentle kisses down her neck to her shoulder. His hands moved to her back, to the straps crossing it, tracing his fingers along the line of the strap, "I have the same problem with this contraption. I'm afraid I have no experience with this."

Nuzzling into his neck, sucking lightly on the skin she gave a throaty laugh which thrilled him, "I take great comfort in that knowledge Charles." He laughed. She used his momentary distraction to slip his hold, sliding down his body. Kneeling before him she met his eyes. There was something new in them, a mixture of apprehension and…hope.


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

**I probably should have done this a few chapters ago but here is a warning. We are firmly in NSFW land and will be there for a few more chapters. I have changed the rating to reflect our more mature turn.**

He looked down at her, wondering briefly what she was planning. As her hands glided down his thighs, squeezing along their way he had a brief moment of panic followed by a thrill of excitement. He was just about to reach for her, stop what he thought she might be thinking when he felt her hand on his foot.

He looked down to see her untying one shoe, then the other. She smiled up at him. He hoped he hid his disappointment as he lifted one foot then the other as she removed his shoes. She pushed the under the bed out of the way.

Standing she stepped out of her skirt, leaving her standing in only her brassiere, knickers and stockings. Bending over she picked up her skirt, placing a small kiss to the inside of his thigh. All of his thoughts from a few moments earlier rushed back to him. He clenched his hands on the side of the bed, squashing the need to pull her to him.

Skirt in hand she walked away from him, folding it and hanging it over the back of the chair next to his shirt. He watched her legs, thinking of how soft her skin was, trying to memorize her delicate curves. She turned back to him with a coy smile.

Keeping her gaze fixed on him, she toed off her shoes, pushing them under the chair. She lifted her leg, balancing it on the edge of the chair and unfastened the stocking before slowly rolling it down her leg. After sliding it off her foot, she shook it then draped it over the edge of the chair before repeating the process with the other leg.

He watched, mesmerized, found he couldn't move, speak, he could barely breath. In the blink of an eye she was in front of him, smaller for having removed her shoes. She turned her back to him, nestling between his legs. Her bottom pressed against his arousal.

She slid her silky hair over her shoulder revealing her back to him, "Charles, do you think you might be able to handle this contraption now?"

All inaction disappeared, his hands were on her shoulders in an instant. They shook as he tenderly stroked her skin. He examined the item, trying to find how it clasped together. Sliding his finger between it and her skin he felt the clasps.

Elsie shivered as his fingers caressed her skin. The warmth of his hands was intoxicating, she wanted to feel them elsewhere on her body. She felt him slide his fingers between the strap and her skin, smiling to herself as he found the clasp.

He pulled it slightly away from her skin looking for the way to unfasten it. Moving closer to it, he kissed her back, trying to distract her. He felt a shiver run through her, "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, her hair falling loosely across her back, "No, I'm not cold Charles."

Tangling his hand in her hair he moved it away from the strap. He nuzzled into her neck, inhaling the fragrance from her hair. His lips grazed her ear, "I'm happy to warm you up."

"Warmth isn't my problem Charles."

His free hand, unfastened the strap then pushed the two parts apart before placing the palm of his hand across the bare skin of her back. Her gasp made him groan. She felt it vibrate through her body, "Is there a problem Elsie?"

She shivered again as he slid one strap down her arm, "No problem Charles, I'm fine…" Her breathing sped up when her breast fell free of the brassiere. His hand cupped her naked breast his thumb stroking the nipple to a tight peak. A strangled cry escaped from her, "Charles." She turned her head seeking his mouth.

He tightened his hand in her hair, tilting her as he claimed her lips. His hand squeezed her breast, his fingers kneading it. He held her fast, keeping her from turning into him. He could feel her bottom grinding against his arousal and was thankful for the extra layers of clothing.

The blistering kiss ran like electricity through her body. Charles was surrounding her, restraining her. She was tired of playing games, she wanted him. She tried to get away, pressed against him then whimpered as she felt the extent of his arousal. Gasping into his mouth she writhed against him.

He had to slow her movements or this was going to end all too soon. He slid his hand down her body, dipping into the silk of her knickers. His fingers grazed across the coarse curls at her center, smiling as she stilled in his arms. Deepening the kiss he slid his fingers into her moisture, pulsing slightly against the place he knew would make her come undone.

She froze the minute his fingers touched her there. A tingling sensation, she wasn't familiar with, vibrated through her body. He had deepened the kiss and it was all she could do to keep up to it while also concentrating on what he was doing to her. His finger was sliding across her, building something inside her. She tightened her legs around his hand wanting him both to stop and continue. The tightening of her legs only seemed to pull his hand closer.

Her legs tightening around his hand served to drive him closer to her center. He flexed his fingers and one finger dipped into her. She groaned into his mouth. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth he curled his finger more sliding it deeper into her. His thumb maintained steady pressure on her nerve center.

She had no more conscious thought, everything was simply instinct, feeling. As his tongue thrust into her mouth, his finger mirrored his actions at her core. She snapped her hips forward, crying out as he slipped a second finger inside her. The tingling built into something almost painful. It was a delicious ache holding so much promise.

His fingers curled inside her, stroking in small circles each time he pushed into her. He continued kissing her thrusting his tongue in and out, matching the motion of his fingers. He felt the small pulses start inside her and pressed harder into her. Within seconds, she tightened around his fingers. He broke the kiss, but left his lips pressed to her lips, limiting the stimuli, letting the pleasure wash over her.

She didn't know what this feeling which overtook her was. She'd never experienced anything like it before. Her entire body was on fire, her muscles tensed against her will. However, there was no pain, it was an indescribable pleasure flexing throughout her body. His kiss was softer now, she was only barely aware of it. His fingers had slowed but were still there pressing against her lightly. Each pulse seemed to send her higher and higher.

She cried out, pulling her mouth from his and he let her. Her cries of pleasure made his length twitch. Watching her lose control was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He cradled her neck in his hand, supporting her weight as she went limp when the pleasure receded. Gently he removed his hand from her center, leaning over to lightly kiss her when she cried out at the loss. He turned her slightly before gathering in his arms and standing, lifting her easily.

**A/N: A very wise woman recently told me an angel gets its wings every time Elsie has an orgasm. Ever so happy to have contributed to the angel population.**


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

Turning back to the bed he placed her gently in the middle of it. She looked up at him as he pulled back. He leaned over and kissed her then stood again.

She watched him, surely he wasn't leaving her here. He pushed his pants down, letting them fall freely to the ground. She smiled, taking her lower lip into her mouth.

He was nervous once his pants hit the floor. Should he simply remove his underpants? Should he climb on the bed beside her?

Reaching her hand to him, she nodded, "Come here Charles, we can do the last bits together."

He took her hand and lowered himself to the bed beside her. She rolled into him, sliding an arm across his waist, pulling him to her before kissing him. It was a soft kiss, tender, lovely. Her hand wandered his back, tracing lazy patterns across his skin. He rested his hand at her waist, giving into the sensations of her hands and mouth.

She kissed down his jawline on a path to his neck. The kisses were gentle, tender, open mouthed. Her tongue played across the rough texture of the stubble, scraping. It was a new experience, one she'd often dreamed of alone in her room. Their nights alone, quietly drinking tea or sherry, had fueled fantasies of running her tongue across it. She'd wondered if it would hurt or feel good. As she moved down his neck she spared a brief thought to what his stubble would feel like brushing against other parts of her body.

Her mouth was on a path down his jaw and neck. All he could feel was her lips, her tongue. So focused on the sensation of lips and mouth he didn't notice the path of her hands. One was tangled in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. Her other hand had moved to his chest running through the hair. Her thumb raked across his nipple. He gasped pushing into her touch.

Her eyes opened at the noise. His head was thrown back, eyes closed. She stroked her thumb across him again, his groan rumbled through his chest vibrating into her body. Desire flashed through her, "Charles, look at me." His eyes opened, dazed with lust. He had trouble focusing on her. She smiled, giving him a quick wink as she lowered her mouth to his nipple.

He saw the wink, the mischievous look on her eye a split second before her mouth latched onto his nipple. She took it between her teeth, teasing it lightly before soothing it with the silky smoothness of her tongue. He tightened his grip on her waist pulling her to him, "Elsie." Her mouth continued to work against his nipple, biting then soothing, "Elsie."

She heard him calling her name but couldn't respond. She was lost to his scent, the feel of him against her mouth, the taste of him. It was all too much. She couldn't wait any longer. Her hand moved down his body, slipping into his underpants. She found his arousal instantly and stroked him.

Her touch moved him into action. He pushed into her, moving her partially onto her back. One hand cupped her bottom the other tangled into her hair, pulling her head up. He tightened his grip until she opened her eyes, "I need you Elsie; I want you."

She stroked him, thrilled by the control she had over him, "You can have me Charles; I'm all yours."

He stopped her hand, removing it from his underpants. He twined his hand with hers moving it slowly over her head. Using his other hand he held her fast as he moved his other hand to the waistband of her knickers. He slid them down smiling when she lifted her hips to help.

Letting her hands go he moved down her body. He took hold of her knickers and slid them down her legs before dropping them to the floor. She smiled up at him, arms still above her head. His mind flashed back to the image of her in this bed the night before, sleeping. Of how much he'd wanted to join her. She was beautiful, wanton. Her hair was spread around her, arms stretched above her head.

She watched him watching her. Wondered what was on his mind. She spread her legs, placing one foot to either side of his legs. She rubbed against his legs delighted when he captured one of her feet. He rubbed her foot, his thumb digging into the arch. She moaned at the feel, an arc of electricity shooting through her leg straight to her core.

He moved his hand up her leg, stroking the silky skin, it was even softer than he could have imagined. He lowered his head placing a soft kiss to the tender skin of her stomach. Nuzzling against the skin before pulling back, worried his stubble might hurt her soft skin.

His stubble against her skin made her gasp. She felt him pull away, "Don't stop Charles. I like it." He smiled at her as he scraped his chin against her again. "Charles." He looked up to her, "I think you forgot something." He raised an eyebrow. She raised her leg, wrapping it over his hips.

He felt the material of his underpants and groaned. He moved away from her, kneeling between her legs, to take them off. She followed, pushing up on her arms, "Let me."

He nodded. She braced her legs around him, using him for ballast as she reached for his underpants. She pushed them down his legs as far as she could, grasping his bottom pulling him to her. Lowering her body back to the bed, pulling him with her.

As his weight covered her she pushed up to kiss him. She used her legs to push his underpants down. His arousal pressed into her hip, hot and heavy. She pushed up trying to shift, move him closer to her. "Now Charles."

He lifted his body, looking down at her. The need in her eyes stripped away all restraint. Shifting slightly he felt his length align with her, "I love you Elsie."


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

She met his gaze, a single tear escaped her eye. The words she'd longed to hear for so long still heavy in the air. She could return them, whisper them against his lips but somehow it didn't feel as if it would be enough. She lifted her legs, resting them on his hips before pulling her legs down. At the same time, she canted her hips forward, pulling him slowly, deliciously inside her.

He groaned as her warm, wetness enveloped him. In all of his life there had never been a more perfect moment than right now. His whole body screamed for him to move but he stayed still, lost in the exquisiteness of this woman, this act. He saw the tear rolling down her cheek and moved to kiss it.

She saw the concern in his face when he saw the tear. Watched his expression move from one of awe to concern, wondered if he was concerned she was hurt in some way. Digging her nails into his back she pulled her hips back slightly then pushed up to him. A cry of pleasure erupted from her, filling the silence of the room.

Charles pulled back slightly at her movement. His fear of hurting her returning. Her cry stopped his thoughts. He recognized it from moments earlier, recognized its breathy beauty. He kissed her, softly, then more deeply. He moved his hips, pulling away from her before slowly pushing back. The breathy moan returned, louder than before.

She returned the kiss, drinking from it. She met his thrusts, needing more. Her hands moved down his back encouraging his movement. The lingering ache, from earlier, moved closer to her. She knew what to expect this time, wanted it, needed it. His slow and steady thrusts seemed to stoke this fire only he had ever lit. She knew, she didn't know how or why, but she knew the lingering ache within her would never bloom into the delicious pleasure from earlier at this pace. Breaking the kiss, she pulled his head to her, rasping into his ear, "Harder Charles."

He looked down at her, uncertain if she was sure what she was asking. If he moved harder, this would never last. Seeing the uncertainty on his face she smiled reassuringly, "Please Charles. I want you."

All sense of self-discipline slipped away. He did the only thing he had ever done when she'd asked him to do something, he willingly acquiesced. Balancing his weight on his arms he pulled his hips back before snapping them forward, harder than before. He was surprised when she met his thrust, luxuriating in her response to him.

They fell into a demanding rhythm. Giving and taking, a dance they'd unknowingly been practicing without knowing for years. All of those subtle things they knew about one another came to fruition in this act. He knew to lift her leg slightly changing the angle of penetration. She knew to arch her back into him prolonging the friction as he drove into her.

Her cries of pleasures grew louder with each thrust. She could feel a luscious fullness with him buried to the hilt in her. It filled an emptiness she'd never known existed before this moment. And despite being in a room which didn't belong to either of them, in a bed on loan from generous employers, she'd never felt more at home.

Charles counted anything he could think to count in his head trying to prolong the pleasure of this moment. He wouldn't let this moment end before he pleasured her. Her cries filled his ears, a symphony unheard by anyone but him. He loved this woman, hated himself for waiting so long to tell her how he felt. He pushed the thought away, refused to allow himself to ruin the loveliness of this moment.

Looking down at her he was prouder than he'd ever been. Pleasure was etched into her face, he was the source of her pleasure, something he could be proud of, something he would spend the rest of his life providing her.

Feeling him watching her she opened her eyes, meeting his. She saw something new on his face, pride, happiness…peace. Reaching up she cupped his cheek tenderly before whispering, "I love you, Charles."


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

Tears filled his eyes as her words echoed through his mind. She'd said them earlier but here, now, he felt the truth of them. She loved him as undeserving as he might be it didn't matter, she loved him. He renewed his efforts, pressing into her harder, faster. He had nothing to give her but this.

She saw his tears and knew they were tears of joy. She'd had a similar response when he'd said it to her. Meeting his pace she gave into the sensations, let them sweep her away. Her head fell back, eyes slid closed as she arched up to him.

Charles lowered his head to her neck. He could feel the muscles in her neck tense as they pushed, almost racing. He could feel his energy waning, knew he couldn't last at this pace for much longer. Balancing his weight on one arm he pulled her leg higher, looping it over his back.

She felt his shift, let her leg be lifted. The change in position sent a shock through her body. Her muscles tightened around his length. Charles groaned, his features tightening. A thought flitted through her mind, tightening her leg on his hip she flexed her muscles, squeezing him.

"Oh God, Elsie."

She wasn't sure exactly what she was doing to him but she knew it wasn't painful to him. Moving her other leg up over his hip she wrapped it around him, joining with her other leg. Contracting her muscles she pulled his head to her and kissed him deeply. His shout rumbled through her sending a shockwave through her entire body. She pulled him tighter to her wanting to surround him.

Charles was lost, she was everywhere. Her very essence surrounded him, he couldn't tell where he started and she ended. He felt every muscle in his body tense, her tongue plunged into his mouth the way he plunged into her body. He couldn't last any longer. He'd wanted to take her over the edge again but knew he couldn't last. Promising himself he would make it up to her he gave one last thrust and spilled inside her.

She knew the moment he was lost, felt the difference in how he pushed into her. His warmth filled her, a pulsing deep within pulling her over the edge. This was different from the last time, deeper, more intense. It swept through her harder, faster. She felt like she might shake apart from the acuteness of the sensation. Her nails raked down his back, trying to hold on, keep herself anchored to him. Her screams were muffled by his.

They still kissed, not as deeply but somehow more intimately. Charles tried to keep his weight from her while she pulled at him wanting to feel it. She lowered her legs from his hips entangling them with his.

Charles rolled them to the side, curling her into his arms, unwilling to let her go. She clung to him and continued to gently kiss him. Their breathing slowly returned to normal. Neither could speak. Charles had never been so tired or exhilarated.

Elsie felt secure in a way she'd never experience before. Their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together. She nuzzled into his chest, tongue tracing lightly over it. His taste had changed, she was fascinated by it. She wondered if it was because he was sweating then realized it was their taste. She shivered at the thought.

Charles felt her shiver and pulled her tighter to him, "Can I get you some covers?"

She smiled as she shook her head, breathing him in, "No, I'm quite warm. And happy. Are you…?"

"No, I'm not cold." He saw her look up at him lower lip between her teeth, "And I am happy." He kissed her taking her lower lip between his lips, soothing it. She sighed into the kiss wondering if anyone would notice if they spent the rest of their lives exactly like this.


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

Sleep took them quickly. Wrapped around one another, the warmth and security was too much. Elsie woke, hours later. It took her a moment to remember where she was and a moment later to remember what had transpired.

In their sleep he had pulled her tighter to him, their legs had tangled even more. Nuzzling into her chest, she smiled to herself as she played the evening through her mind. In her wildest dreams, she couldn't have imagined this would transpire. Pausing at the thought, what had she thought would happen?

It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about this, wanted it for longer than she cared to admit. She'd just never imagined Charles Carson would take this step so quickly. At best she'd thought they would come away with an understanding, a promise for the future.

She shook her head, almost laughing at herself. Who are you kidding Elsie Hughes, this was exactly what you wanted, no need to be coy now. Tightening her arm around him she lightly kissed his chest.

Charles woke the moment he felt her nose touch his chest. His mind wanted to tell him it was just another of his many dreams but her smell was too strong. Carefully opening on eye, he watched her. The light from the fire was bright enough to illuminate the curves of her face.

She smiled and he wondered what she was thinking. Was she happy about their evening? Did she know how happy he was about this evening? He'd wanted this for so long, wanted her. What they'd done, well most would consider it wrong. There was a time in his life where he would have condemned it.

Her head shook, breaking his thought. Looking down at her again he recognized the self-satisfied smile on her face. As her arms tightened around him he suddenly didn't care. He didn't care what anyone else thought. The only thoughts which mattered where hers and his.

"That is a very smug expression on your face Mrs. Hughes."

Tipping her head up to look at him she raised an eyebrow, "The same could be said for you Mr. Carson."

He kissed the tip of her nose, "Perhaps, but you have the look of someone who has just pulled off the perfect plan."

She blushed, did he know what she'd done? "Well I did finish all of my tasks today so it was very rewarding."

"Rewarding?"

"Satisfying."

Electricity coursed through him at her teasing, "Pleasurable."

"I love you Charles." He nodded, humming deeply as he lowered his head to kiss her. Placing her hand on his lips she stopped him, "I didn't plan any of this. I need you to know that."

He took her hand, kissing the fingers on his lips, "What makes you so sure I didn't plan this?"

"You planned to have me replace Mrs. Bute? You planned for the linen stock to be woefully inadequate? You planned for me to convince her ladyship to come to London with you…" She froze, what had she just said.

Charles laughed, a deep body shaking, rumbly laugh. He pulled her to him, on top of him and kissed her until they were both breathless. Elsie frowned down at him, "What was that for?"

"Because finally, after all of these years, I caught you in one of your plots."

"I don't plot Mr. Carson."

Tracing his hands down the bare skin of her back he kissed along her neck, "You do too and you are lovely when you do it."

Suddenly finding it very hard to concentrate, she feigned annoyance, "Name one time, before today, where I plotted."

"A certain postcard," kiss. "Placed at eye level," kiss. "On my notice board," kiss."

Sighing with pleasure, "OK, name another time."

He broke away from her neck, taking her face in his hands, "Elsie, I have carried a wedding ring, wrapped in a purloined handkerchief for 20 years. Do you really think I care about your plotting?"

The look he gave her pulled the oxygen from her lungs. She felt heat suffuse her body in an instant. She shook her head, "I guess when you put it that way."


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

**Short chapter - busy day. But I wanted you lovely people to have a little warmth on a cold winter's evening.**

Charles pulled her down to him, capturing her lips. She pulled herself more fully on top of him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands wandered down her naked back, luxuriating in the feel of her skin. Cupping her bottom he pushed his hips up.

Elsie groaned when she felt his growing arousal pressing against her. She rolled her hips, sliding across him, smiling against his lips when he answered with his own moan. She felt so small yet somehow so powerful. She spread her legs over him, gripping his legs with hers.

His eyes opened, a strangled cry escaped. What was she doing? He could feel her wetness, sliding across his hardening length, "Elsie?"

Opening her eyes, lust clouding her vision, she looked up at him, "Yes, Charles."

"What are you doing?"

She bit her lower lip, insecurity flooding her features, "Am I doing something wrong?" She pushed up, suddenly embarrassed by her boldness.

He felt her slip across his length. He grabbed her arms, holding her still, "Nothing love, it's just, we don't have to do this, this way." She crossed her arms, trying to cover herself. He closed his eyes thinking he might die of embarrassment. He hadn't wanted to hurt her.

Elsie tried to pull away, unsure of what she'd done. She could feel him pressing against her, didn't he want her, "I'm sorry Charles, I thought you…"

He sat up, pulling her into his arms, wrapping his hands in to her hair. Whispering softly into her ear, "You thought what Elsie?"

She shook her head, "I thought you wanted me."

She wouldn't look at him. He took her face in his hands, lifting her face to his before he kissed her tenderly, "I do Elsie."

Tears glistened in her eyes, "Then why did you stop me?"

"I wasn't stopping you, I was…" It was his turn to look away.

"You were what Charles."

He swallowed, "The way we were…" He paused, "Positioned, I don't want you to think."

Shaking her head, "I don't understand, Charles." At his stricken look realization hit her, "Could we have…" He nodded, still looking away from her. Placing her finger under his chin, lifting his eyes to her, "Would you want to?"

Keeping her eyes locked on his, she shifted her hips rubbing against him. When he opened his mouth to groan she captured his lips. Her moans joined his as he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her onto him. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around him as pushed up.


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60**

**Baby it's cold outside...but it's nice and warm in here.**

They froze as he pushed into her, mouths still touching, breath mingling. She'd been so forward but now wasn't quite sure what to do. It felt different this way, he felt different. She tried to move but with her legs around him found she couldn't do much more than squirm.

Trying to lift her bottom, she squeezed against his length. A rumbling groan escaped his mouth, she felt it through her entire body. Thinking she'd hurt him, she froze then kissed him gently in way of apology. The force of his answering kiss and the way he pulled down on her hips told her it wasn't pain he was experiencing.

Returning his kiss, she watched him as she shifted her bottom again. This time, not only squeezing against his length but also lifting away from him before slowly sliding down again. His eyes bolted open before sliding slowly closed, his hips pushed up to her. She could feel his breathing quicken.

Unwrapping her legs from his waist, she tried to pull them back only to have him pull her to him while looking up at her desperately. She smiled at him, "Shh, it's OK."

He loosened his hold, watching her as she shifted her legs to either side of his. His eyes fluttered as she slowly moved up his length. She didn't want to lose the connection with him but needed something different. He was barely inside her, just fluttering in and out. It was a delicious, teasing feeling, full but empty. The lovely hardness of him covered with silky soft skin.

She hovered there keeping him just inside her, occasionally dipping down, taking in more of him before quickly retreating. She would tighten her muscles as she lifted dragging herself over him, could feel her muscles pulling against him. His moans and growls only served to make her more excited.

She watched his face, memorizing every expression. He was magnificent in this moment, she wanted to know what he was thinking, feeling, everything. She covered his hands at her waist and felt him tighten his grip, pulling down on her. She let him pull her down further on his length before locking her muscles, stopping her descent.

His eyes opened, meeting hers. Smiling, she squeezed against him before slowly pulling up. She starting moving alternating short shallow strokes with longer strokes but never taking him fully inside. She squeezed against him, tilted her hips, slow, fast, every combination she could think of.

Within minutes he was incapable of thought, he was reduced to a series incoherent noises each different depending on her motion. She reveled in his noises, never knew she could have this much control over another person. Never knew she could bring another person this much pleasure.


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61**

He froze as their bodies joined. He'd thrilled at the thought of taking her this way and now with her wrapped around him, filling his arms, not to mention his lap, he had no idea what to do. Her lips were still on his, he could feel her warm breath caressing his face.

She wasn't moving either. Had he hurt her, was this too much? As the thoughts registered in his head, he felt her begin to move over him. She tightened around his length and he couldn't help but groan. It was an exquisite feeling like being wrapped in warm, velvety softness. Her lips moved softly over his mouth, spurring him into action.

He pulled her down on him, pushed into the kiss with a force he wasn't aware he was capable of. His only thought was of claiming her. She matched his fervor with the kiss before sliding up and down his length again, contracting against him. His eyes opened in surprise before falling closed as she squeezed against him. He found it difficult to breathe, as if it was no longer a natural instinct but rather something he had to think about and it was the last thing he wanted to think about.

While focused on breathing in and out, he felt her move, attempt to pull away from him. He opened his eyes, hoping she would see his desperate need. His arms tightened against her, he couldn't let her move. The smile on her face was kind, loving, seductive. Her whispered words reassured him, "Shh, it's OK."

Loosening his hold he let her move, watching as she shifted her legs to either side of his. Her movement lifted her almost all the way off him. Yet somehow he was still inside her, barely, teasingly, torturously. She seemed to hang suspended, just connected to him. He could feel her fluttering against his tip. His eyes rolled back. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from pulling her down. He watched as she bobbed over him. The feeling was luscious. She was all silky warmth pulling against him, pushing onto him. A taste of heaven before pulling away leaving him wanting.

He closed his eyes knowing if he continued to watch this act would end before it really fully started. He'd thought he would count silver or set the perfect table in his head and it would distract him enough to make this moment last. He was wrong. Closing his eyes only served to isolate the individual sensations. He could now feel every ripple as she undulated over him. The noises escaping him were unrecognizable to him.

Her hands over his seemed a signal. Would she finally let him satisfy her? He pulled down, screaming as he felt more of his length enveloped by her. His eyes sprung open when she stopped his progress. Halfway to his ultimate destination and she was holding firm, keeping him from burying himself inside her.

He gasped, opening his eyes to look at her, pleadingly. Very slowly, she began to move, teasingly, tauntingly, lovingly. There was nothing he could do but accept it, hope he would be able to satisfy her before she took him over the edge.

Within minutes he was incapable of thought, he was reduced to a series of incoherent noises each different depending on her motion. He'd never known he was capable of such noises, had he been able to think he might have been embarrassed. But in this moment all he could think about was the amazing woman in front of him and the power she held over him.


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62**

**I have been a bit remiss. I owe the magnificent DeeDee a huge thank you. The "shallow bobbing" was completely her concept. I do love chatting with her and this phrase caught in my brain and I reworked these chapters to accommodate the little brain worm. They are ever so much better for it. Mwah!**

She could feel pressure building within while she teased him. It was a fleeting sensation ebbing and flowing like waves on a beach. Her mind wandered to their day at the shore, how he'd teased her about being risqué. If he thought holding her hand to be steady was risqué, what must he think of this?

As she pushed down, the internal pressure built a bit more, lapping at her center. Suddenly, she didn't want to tease. Pulling his face to hers, she kissed him. Her tongue traced the contour of his lips before plunging into his mouth. When he engaged in the kiss she lowered her body all the way onto his, swallowing his groan.

They kissed, deeply, his hands at her waist. Both savored the feeling. She tightened around his full length as he pushed up to her. It was her turn to gasp, she could feel the delicious ache move closer.

Feeling her lips on his, Charles opened his eyes. There was a different look in her eyes, a quiet desperation he was certain matched the look in his. He pulled his legs in to gain more traction then lifted her delighting in the feel of her dragging against him. He watched the pleasure play across her face, the muscles relaxing, her head falling slightly back.

Tipping his head forward, he attacked the pulse point of her neck just as he pulled her down and pushed up to her. She gasped as the multiple points of stimuli coursed across her body. Her gasp was music to his ears. Perhaps the power wasn't all hers. He lifted at her waist again and felt her join him, helping the effort.

In seconds, they found a rhythm, pushing and pressing into one another, fast, slow, hard, soft. Charles pushed forward and she arched her back. He cupped her breast before lavishing it with his tongue, then sucking it into his mouth. An edge of teeth then a soft, soothing stroke of his tongue. He mirrored the actions of their bodies against her breast.

Elsie screamed out at the feel of his tongue on her breast, then his teeth prolonged the exquisite torture. Their bodies continued to move in perfect concert, a dance only they seemed to know, that they seemed to be creating as they went along. She hovered on the knife's edge of passion, every stroke in seemed to bring her closer only to have it recede slightly as they pulled away. It was divine, spiritual feeling.

"Charles, I love you."

Her words penetrated his thoughts. He looked up at her, mesmerized by the look of ecstasy on her face. He wondered how it would change as she fell over the edge. He lowered his hand to the place where they were joined. Softly he stroked her and was rewarded with a moan, then a gasp.

His touch slammed into her, the pleasure spiked through her. She arched into him, panting with need. His thumb passed over her again and she tightened against him. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him tighter, trapping his hand between them. A deep, keening moan escaped her.

Tightening his grip around her waist he pulled her to him. He moved his thumb across her, faster, more firmly. Her breathing quickened almost to a pant. He could feel her pulsing against him, pulling him closer to his own release.

Elsie ground against him, she knew she was on the precipice, chasing something. She squeezed against him in time with how he stroked her. She pulled at his hair, needing to feel his lips.

The sensation of his hair being pulled was oddly erotic. A slight pain seconds before her nails raked through it and her lips crashed into hers. He surrendered to it all. Flicking his thumb over her one last time he pulled her to him and gave in to this all-consuming kiss.

As he pulled her tighter to him, his hand pressed into her. It was all it took to send her spiraling over the edge. She fell into the abyss of pleasure. Every nerve ending seemed to fire at once, lighting her body from within. Pulling away from his mouth, needing to limit the stimulation she screamed out her pleasure.

Charles watched her, at first shocked she'd pulled away from the kiss. He could feel her body tense, she squeezed around him, pulsing with pleasure. The sheer force of it almost pulled him over the edge but somehow he held on, wanting to watch her. He'd thought he'd known every expression she made but this was something new. And it was something only he would ever get to see. He smiled to himself before lowering his head to gently kiss the pulse at her neck.


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63**

**Sorry for the delay, real life... I may have to go to updating every other day rather than daily. Don't you just hate when your real life gets in the way of your make believe world?**

He kissed tenderly at her neck, holding her close to him. As her body relaxed, he began to press into her again, a fresh set of moans escaped. Lazily she opened her eyes, an indolent smile crossed her face. He smiled at her, pleased with himself, as he pushed up to her.

His almost arrogant smile broke through her senses. She could tell he was pleased with himself, rightfully so she thought. However, she couldn't let him think he was too good, no it was best to wipe that smile off his face. Pressing into him, she pushed him, her lips lightly touched his. Her tongue traced the contours of his cat and canary smile.

Taking his hands into hers she laced their fingers together then used her weight to push him back onto the bed. She moved his hands to the side of head, holding them there. As she tightened around his length a gasp escaped his mouth and she thrust her tongue inside. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, demanding and taking. She snapped her hips forward pulling him to the edge.

He groaned into her mouth as the pleasure threatened to consume him. He wanted to touch her but her hands were holding him down. He had no doubt he could break her hold but there was something so carnal about being restrained he didn't want to. Her hips snapping forward broke his thoughts. Suddenly, he didn't care what she did to him all he cared about was falling over the edge, letting her push him.

He tried to push up to her wanting to hurry the process. Yet each time he did she pulled away, teasing him. He could feel the pressure building, just out of reach. It was a sweet, aching torture. She move her hips in no discernible pattern, fluctuating the movement enough to keep him from joining, shallow, deep, up, down, side to side. All the while squeezing against him. It was heaven and hell and all points in between.

Elsie could feel his frustration building, his muscles tensing. She could also feel the familiar pressure building inside her own body. She'd never imagined being with a man could feel like this. She'd felt him watching her earlier when he given her so much pleasure, seen his pleased expression as she recovered. She wanted to watch him come unwound, watch this proud man lose himself, to her.

The noises he was making had changed, they were coming faster, were higher pitched. His hips thrust up to her faster. She remembered how her body reacted when he'd pulled her tighter to him. How he'd hit something different in her body which had sent her spiraling over the edge. Without thinking she let go of his hands, sat up slightly. She rested her hands on his chest, using it to balance herself as she pushed down on him.

He felt her let go of his hands as she shifted. He felt her hands on his chest as she pushed down on him and then all thought left his mind as pleasure suffused his entire body. Every nerve ending fired at once as his entire body shuddered and he spilled himself inside her. A guttural scream he was unaware he was making escaped.

She knew the moment he fell over the edge. Had she let herself, it would have taken her too. But she wanted to watch him, wanted to see what she could do to him, see something no one else would ever see. There would be time for her pleasure later, this was about him.

As she felt his body relax, she lowered herself to his chest. Straightening her legs, she stretched out over his body. A small cry escaped her as he slipped out of her. She nuzzled into his chest when his arms circled her body. A soft kiss to the top of her head was the last thing she remembered before she slipped off to sleep.

Charles felt when she relaxed on top of him. Could hear her breath, deep and even, and knew she was asleep. As gently as he could, he rolled them both to the side, settling her tightly against his body. He said a silent prayer for the blessing she was before he drifted off to sleep.


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64**

Charles woke, surprised to find the room filled with light. He stretched in the bed startled to find Elsie gone. He wasn't sure what to do, should he dress, stay in the bed? He moved to the side of the bed and was just standing when he heard a noise at the door. Pulling on the sheet to cover himself, he turned.

Elsie was leaning against the door, watching him as he covered himself. She tried to stop the laughter but couldn't, "Going somewhere, Mr. Carson?"

Wrapping the sheet more tightly around him, he tried to muster some dignity, "I thought I might get dressed, come find you."

"Where exactly did you think I had gone?" He bristled, she could see him getting angry, "Charles, I am teasing you. Perhaps I shouldn't have done so while you were…naked."

Sitting on the bed he smiled, "It is a bit harder to take without clothing."

Stepping into the room she walked toward him, "Perhaps you should get accustomed to it Charles, we are to be married and I expect to see you without clothing much more regularly."

Tightening his grip on the sheet, he looked down, a pleased smile on his face, "I might be able to accommodate that on one condition." She nodded, "I get to see you without clothing much more regularly."

She stepped between his legs, snaking her arms around his neck, "I accept your condition." She pressed into him, kissing him, deepening the kiss.

Letting go of the sheet, he pulled her to him, surrendering to the kiss. He delighted in the silky feel of her dressing gown, allowed his hands to stroke the fabric feeling her supple softness beneath it.

Elsie wrapped her arms tighter around him, pressing into him. She felt a rumble from him and started to laugh. Pulling away, she broke the kiss, "Charles I think we have something we need to do."

Groaning he tried to pull her back to him, "I agree, come here and we can do whatever you want."

She skipped away from him, "I meant food Charles. Unless you want a breakfast of shortbread and an apple."

"Are you serious?"

"Quite, I was right about last night wasn't I?" He looked at her, confused. "oldingNeeding all the strength you had."

His stomach grumbled, so loudly they both heard it, "I guess I can't argue with you or my stomach."

Trailing her fingers over his cheek, "It's best you learn that now. Do you want to put on your clothes? Or I could nip upstairs and get your pajamas and dressing gown?"

Fingering the silk of her dressing gown, "Do we dare to have breakfast like this?"

"I won't tell anyone if you won't."

"You won't have to go far, my things are in the room across the hall."

She stared at him, blinking, worrying her lower lip. "When?"

"You were right, it was too cold in the attics. I came down night before last and slept there. Then, yesterday morning, before I came downstairs, I decided to stay down here. I moved my things during the day." Tears filled her eyes. He took her hand, "Elsie are you OK?"

"You just said I was right." A brilliant smile bloomed on her face.

He rolled his eyes, "You seem surprised."

"That you admitted it, yes. That I was right, no, I usually am."

"And your modesty is one of the many things I love about you."

She tightened her grip on his hands she smiled, "Why don't I go across the hall and get your pajamas? We can go downstairs, make breakfast then you can tell me the other things you love about me."


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65**

**A very wise woman recently suggested all meals from this point forward shall be referred to as "sex fuel". Thank you for letting me use it Chelsie Dagger. Sorry for the short chapter. It misbehaved a bit.**

Downstairs they worked together, as they always did, to make breakfast. Anyone watching the scene would have assumed it was something they did daily and not for the first time. Charles cooked while Elsie cleared the dishes from their dinner the night before then made tea and toast. It didn't take long and they were seated in his pantry.

Elsie prepared his tea and handed him the cup. He took the cup then took a sip and smiled, "One more thing I love about you. You always know exactly how I like my tea."

Teasingly she smiled at him, "Well I have had years to perfect it." He looked down at his plate, suddenly sad. Reaching across the table she took his hand, "Charles, what is it?"

"I've wasted a lifetime. We could have had this years ago. Be in our own cottage somewhere, perhaps have had children."

She paused, not sure how to answer him, "I've not been unhappy, have you?"

He shook his head, "No, I've loved every minute by your side." She raised an eyebrow making him laugh, "Even when we've quarreled I've loved it."

"Then nothing was wasted, we've had a lifetime together. Perhaps it wasn't the lifetime we could have had but we were still side by side."

"There's another reason I love you so very much." At her quizzical look, he smiled, "You are very practical and you can find some positive thing in every situation."

She smiled, blushing at his words, "Eat your breakfast."

They ate in relative silence, minor comments passed back and forth. Elsie finished first, sitting back in her chair she watched him curiously.

"Why do I feel like an animal in a zoo?"

She laughed, "I'm sorry, it's just I never get to watch you."

Wiping his mouth, he set the napkin aside, "I'm not sure I'm much to watch."

"I disagree, I look forward to spending the rest of my life watching you."

"That's a lovely thought." He stood taking her plate and then his. When she moved to help he stopped her, "I'll just clear these away and come back. Then we can talk about what you would like to do today."

She smiled up at him, nodding, then watched him leave. Her mind wandered to what they'd already done and she blushed. What would he think if she just said she wanted to spend the day in bed with him? Standing, in an attempt to clear her head, she walked around his pantry.

There was definitely more of a feel of him here. She wondered if he spent more time here than in his room in the attics during the season. Glancing at the well-worn chair, she suspected it answered her question. She sat in it, basked in the scent of him as it wafted around him. Settling into it, she looked down at her hand and admired the ring.

His comment about wasting a lifetime filtered through her mind, closely followed by his comment from the night before. Twenty years, had he really carried it in his pocket for 20 years? What had made him wait so long? Could they have had another life? She pressed her hand to her stomach, imagining their children, tears filled her eyes.


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 66**

**I think I finally tamed them. You never know, these two are tricky.**

Charles walked down the hall, humming to himself. He was thinking of all of the places he would love to take her today. His step faltered when he thought about what they'd done last night. Perhaps they didn't need to leave the house after all.

Rounding the corner into his office, he smiled when he saw Elsie seated in his chair. He thought about the night before when he'd found her sleeping in it. Suddenly he understood her desire to watch him. It had been such a special moment to watch her without worry of being caught out.

He stood in the doorway, watching her, happy to have her in his space, in his chair. So lost in watching her it took a moment for him to realize her shoulders are shaking. Stepping into the room he stepped closer to her, "Elsie?"

She shook her hand, reaching up to wipe away the tears, "Give me a moment, Charles."

Closing the distance between them he knelt in front of her. Tears streamed down her face but the look in her eyes wasn't sadness, it was anger, "What's wrong Elsie?"

"Twenty years Charles, you've had this ring for 20 years. How could you have done this?"

Looking down, he took her hands, his fingers automatically finding the ring, "I never thought myself worthy." She tried to pull her hands away and he looked up at her, "Please just listen." When her hands stilled he continued.

"You don't know how right you were about Alice being an open wound." He stroked the ring on her finger. "I bought this ring 20 years ago in a moment of weakness. I saw it and instantly thought of you. I knew I couldn't ask you then, I didn't have enough put by to make sure we could survive. My plan was to work a few more years, put away everything I could and then I would ask you."

He looked up at her, wiped away some of her tears. She nodded, her eyes less angry, "Go on."

"Then I had the money but I lost the nerve. Every time I would think I had built up the courage, one look at you and it would melt away. I wasn't worthy of you. One woman I loved desperately had already left me for another. If you said no, I didn't think I would recover."

She squeezed his hand, "I would have said yes."

"I know that now. I've been such a fool. I've wasted your life, our life." He pulled away, needing distance before he said the next words, "If you want to change your mind, I'll understand."

She reached for him, stopping his retreat, "Is that what you want Charles Carson?" The sharpness in her voice stopped him, "Is that what you think of me?"

Shaking his head, he tried to pull away but she held him fast, "No, I don't want it. But I don't want you to have regrets. To think I didn't ask you all of those years ago because of anything you did. I shouldn't have told you how long I've had the ring."

"Charles, I stand by what I said earlier. We've had a life together. It does us no good to linger on what might have been." The questioning look in his eyes prompted her to continue, "I was sitting in your chair and I looked at the ring. I could see it all, that cottage, children, all of it. I lost my bearing for a moment." She looked down.

"Elsie, we will have that cottage and we do have children." She looked up at him, he cupped her cheek gently, his thumb wiping away her tears, "Anna, William, Alfred, Daisy, so many others. Perhaps they aren't our flesh and blood but they are still our children. At least that's how I've always felt."

"I never knew you felt that way."

"Well they were probably happier thinking of you as their mother than me as their father but we have served those roles."

She smiled at him, covering his hand with hers, "That's not true. You've been good for all of them. Perhaps a bit strict but then one parent always is."

Charles moved closer to her, "I think you have had your fair share of strict moments. Or do you save those for wayward butlers?"

She parted her legs, letting him move closer, "Only one wayward butler."


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter 67**

He slid his hands up her legs, dragging the silky material with him, "I hope you know the wayward butler in question sometimes likes when you are strict with him."

Parting her legs more, she pulled at the sash of his dressing gown, untying it. She used it to pull him closer, parting her legs more to accommodate him, "Now what kind of housekeeper would I be if I didn't know that about my butler?"

Her use of "my butler" thrilled him, "I am yours, you know. I think I have been since the day you stepped foot in the Abbey."

Nimble fingers made short work of the buttons of his pajama top. She pushed it and his dressing gown off his shoulders, trapping his arms then pulled him to her, "Charles." He met her eyes, "Stop talking."

A groan escaped him at the explicit implication. Pulling back from her he freed himself from the confines of his dressing gown and pajama top. His hands returned to the bare skin of her legs, moving slowly upwards. They slid under the material to her hips, thrilled when he discovered nothing but bare skin. He pulled her to him, almost roughly, delighting in her breathy gasp, "Charles."

Lowering her head, he smiled slightly, "Elsie, no more talking." His lips captured hers, full of need and want. There was a hint of fear as the idea of losing her lingered in his mind. Whether it was losing her because he didn't act or because he acted too late didn't matter, all that mattered was letting her know he was hers.

Elsie was taken by surprise by his move. The forceful way he'd pulled her to him was tantalizing. She could feel him pressed against her, seemingly getting harder as the kiss deepened. This felt different than the night before, not in a bad way, a new and exciting way. She gave into the kiss, letting it sweep her away in a haze of lust and hunger. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pressing into him more. Her hips moved of their own accord rubbing against his arousal. The fabric of his bottoms providing a frisson which hyped her own arousal level.

All fear disappeared when he felt her wrap her legs around him. As she ground her center against him, he could feel her moisture. He'd never imagined he would experience something this powerful, he needed her, wanted her, felt as if he was drowning in her. His hands moved up her body, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushed across her nipples.

She arched into him reaching for his waistband, pushing his pants down. Her hand circled his arousal, stroking it. She felt his groan rumbling through her body. Tightening her legs around his hips, she pulled him to her, guiding him into her.

He slid into her, groaning as she enveloped him. Nothing in his life had ever felt as this did. They were made for one another, seemed to fit perfectly together. He pushed forward, pausing when he was fully inside. He felt her tighten against him. He broke the kiss, needing to scream out.

She felt him pull away. She was gasping for air as she watched him roar above her. She'd done this to him, wondered if she could do more. Canting her hips slightly, she pulled away from him before thrusting them back.

His head snapped down, brown almost black eyes, meeting hers. One arm wrapped around her waist pulling her up to him. His hips pulled back withdrawing from her, he smiled triumphantly at her groan before plunging into her again.

She shouted out as he pushed into her. She pushed up to him, meeting his thrusts. Somehow she knew this wouldn't last long, each of his thrusts, long and hard, drove her closer to the edge. This wasn't the slow steady build from the night before, it was a rushing assault on her senses. Every inch of her skin was on fire. She could feel every different point of contact. The lace of her negligee rasping against her skin, his hand pressed against the small of her back, his breath caressing her skin.

Charles didn't know how much longer he could last. The pace was so fast, a blitz against his senses. She was a siren, calling to him, she always had. Looking down at her he was transfixed. She was life, his life, how had he wasted all of this time? Remembering her words, he cast the thought aside, pulling her to him.

She pulled him down to her, capturing his lips. This kiss was softer than his earlier. Her lips caressed his, drawing him down to her. Their bodies still moved frantically but the kiss was a counterpoint, tender and soft.

He lifted her slightly, adjusting their position. He felt her tighten around him, rhythmically squeezing against him. A growl vibrated through her body, flowing into his, pulling him over the edge with her. He collapsed on her, doing his best to not crush her into the chair.

She fell over the edge, taken by surprise. A growl escaped her, pulsing through her body. Charles responded, pushing into her harder. She could feel him pulsing inside her. He fell onto her, pushing her into the softness of the chair. She wrapped her arms around him cradling him to her.


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter 68**

Her fingers played through his hair. She could feel him breathing hard, was a bit worried. "Charles?"

He released a contented sigh as he nuzzled at her breasts, "I'm sorry, am I crushing you?"

Smiling at his concern she laughed, "No, I quite like the feeling of you on top of me." His rumbling laughter vibrated through her as he lifted his head. Hearing her own words, she blushed, "I didn't mean, well, I meant to say…"

Nipping at her skin he smiled, "So you don't like me on top? Perhaps you prefer to be on top?"

Her blush deepened, "Charles."

He pulled away, concerned he might have offended her, "I'm sorry Elsie I shouldn't have said that. I don't know what came over me."

Grabbing his arm, pulling him back to her, "Charles, I'm not offended, far from it." She cupped his cheek gently, "I was embarrassed by what I said, your comment actually made me feel better about what I said."

"Don't ever be embarrassed to tell me something Elsie. We're partners now," he took her hand, linking their fingers together, "more than we've ever been."

"This is all so unexpected." He squirmed between her legs, "Charles, get up, you can't possibly be comfortable."

"Sorry," he looked down sheepishly. He pushed back, pulling up his pajama bottoms, then stood. He offered her his hand and pulled her to him. Turning her quickly, he sat in his chair pulling her into his lap. "Now I am much more comfortable, how are you my love?"

She laughed at his impetuousness, "I am quite comfortable but I can't imagine I am light enough for you to be comfortable."

He nuzzled into her neck before whispering in her ear, "As a very wise woman recently said to me, I quite like the feeling of you on top of me."

"I love you Charles Carson."

"And I you, Elsie Hughes, soon to be Carson." He pulled her down, kissing her soundly. They were both slightly breathless when the kiss ended, "So this was all unexpected? What exactly were you expecting when you plotted to have her ladyship send you to London with me?"


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter 69**

Lowering her head, she blushed, "I was hoping you'd forgotten about my admission."

He tightened his grip around her waist, "You were hoping you'd distracted me enough to forget."

"Charles Carson." She laughed realizing indignation wouldn't work in this scenario. "I wasn't planning this." She motioned to their bodies.

He raised his eyebrows, "But you wanted this?"

Laughing she kissed him, "Very much, I wanted this very much. I just didn't dare hope."

"You didn't think I would want you?"

Ducking her head she looked away shyly, "I've never, I mean, there have been times I think I've seen a glimpse of something"

His heart hurt, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Making you doubt yourself, doubt me."

"Charles, I've never doubted you cared. And over the past few years, I've suspected your feelings were more than those of a co-worker."

"But you didn't know?"

Cupping his cheek gently, "What did you think when you discovered I would be joining you?"

"Alone." At her quizzical look he turned his head into her hand and kissed her palm, "I thought I finally get to be alone with you. And not just a few stolen moments late in the evening, really alone."

She inhaled, chewed on her lip, tears filled her eyes, "And why did you want to be alone with me?"

"I always want to be alone with you Elsie. There's no one in the world I would rather be with. You are the first person I think of when I wake, the last person I think of when I fall asleep and at all moments in between."

"I feel the same Charles. Even when we are at odds, I want to be with you." She looked down, "I have a confession to make." She paused, continuing when she felt his arms tighten around her, "During the season, when you're gone, I have a glass of sherry every night in your pantry."

He smiled at her confession, "I have one too. During the season, when I am away from you, I have a glass of wine or sherry every night here in this chair. Many nights I fall asleep here because I can't stomach the thought of going upstairs to my empty room knowing you aren't just next door."

"This season I will be here, with you."

"What if I don't want to be here?"

She pulled away slightly, "You don't want to…" She shook her head, "I don't understand Charles."

"I would like to retire Elsie, buy that cottage we've talked about. Dedicate my life to you, to us."

"You wouldn't want to work a few more years? We could still buy the cottage and rent it like we talked about."

He pulled her to him, kissing her deeply. His hand tangled into her hair. When he pulled away he brushed his thumb across the lower lip she so often abused, "Do you really want to wait a couple of more years for this? Are you suggesting we hide what we feel for one another? Scurry around the house trying to find somewhere to be alone, without being caught?"

"Well as exciting as that might be Mr. Carson, I am suggesting no such thing. There is another option though." She paused, giving him a chance to interrupt before continuing, "We could tell the family, say we want to marry. They might be accepting, they accepted Anna and Mr. Bates. We are vastly more critical to the running of the household than them."

"A married housekeeper and butler, it's simply not done."

"It is done, there are two houses on this very street that have married heads of staff."

He rolled his eyes, "In London, perhaps, but in Yorkshire?"

"Charles, are you really ready to retire?"

"I am ready for my life with you to start." He was pleased when she smiled at his words, "Are you ready to retire Elsie?"

"Yes and no. I want a full season here. I want to prove to myself I can run both houses."

"Elsie, you know you can. You've done so much with all of the restrictions placed on us. Running this house will be easy for you."

"Thank you Charles, it means a lot to me."

"You realize if we go with your plan, we may not have a choice in retiring?"

"If that is their decision then I will happily retire with you, live in our cottage."

"And if they let us continue, how much longer?"

She took a deep breath, "I had planned on giving my notice when we return from the season. It would give me six months to find a replacement and train her. This time next year I had hoped to be retired."

"And if I hadn't asked you to marry me, what would you have done?"

Sitting up a bit straighter she smiled at him, "I am a modern woman, I simply would have asked you to marry me."

"You wouldn't have?"

Leaning into him she brushed her lips against his, "I guess we will never know Mr. Carson."

Quickly she hopped off his lap and was halfway across the room before he reacted, "Wait, where are you going?"

"To take a bath Mr. Carson."

He shuffled out of his chair, looking around his pantry, "Well I guess I could straighten up in the kitchen then take a bath afterward."

She fought back a smile at his disappointed look. At the door she looked at him over her shoulder, "Or you could join me in the bath?"


	70. Chapter 70

**Chapter 70**

Charles leapt from his chair following after her. He caught a glimpse of her dressing gown around a corner and pursued, catching up with her on the stairs. "Elsie, are you serious? Taking a bath together?"

Continuing her climb up the stairs, she smiled to herself, "It's quite a large bath Charles, I can't think of any reason we shouldn't." At the top of the stairs she looked back at him, "Unless you don't want to take a bath with me Charles?"

He stopped, looking up at her, "I have one condition."

Raising her eyebrow, she smiled, "Let's hear it."

Taking a step up so they were at eye level, he fingered the silky material of her dressing gown, "I get to take this off you."

Smiling at him she pulled him to her, "I hoped you would say that Mr. Carson." She kissed him quickly before turning and continuing the climb toward.

Charles watched her walk away, sighing loudly. The silky fabric clung to all of her curves. For years he'd avoided walking up stairs behind her, never able to keep his eyes from her figure. For the next few days, there was no need to avoid this particular pleasure. Seeing she was no longer on the stairs he ran to catch up with her.

Elsie smiled to herself. She'd known the kiss would throw him off. He'd avoided walking up stairs behind her for at least the last five years. She'd never been sure exactly why until she'd heard his sigh. There had been suspicions in her mind, but nothing concrete. It was amazing how something so small could make her so happy.

Entering the bathroom she started the taps, adjusting the water to comfortable levels. She opened the cabinet to remove towels noticing three bottles. Taking one she opened it and sniffed, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose she put it back. She repeated the process with the second bottle with similar results. With little hope she took the last bottle and opened it. A small smile crossed her face.

"Nothing too flowery I hope?"

She jumped, almost dropping the bottle before turning to him, "For scaring me I should make you smell like a rose."

Crossing the room quickly he took the bottle from her, opening it and take a whiff, "This isn't you?"

She blushed, "Well no, but I didn't bring any of my bath items."

"I prefer the way you smell."

"It's just shampoo Charles and soap."

Placing the bottle back in the cabinet he slid the dressing gown from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, "It's not your shampoo Elsie, it's you."

She swallowed, chewing on her lip, taking a step closer to him. She could feel the heat from his body, "Thank you Charles." She untied the sash of his dressing gown and wrapped her arms around him, burying her nose in his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in her hair, "No, thank you Elsie."

Looking up at him, concern crossed her face, "Whatever for Charles?"

"For waiting, for loving me, for pushing me, for everything."

"You've no need to thank me Charles. The only thing you need to do is keep up your end of our bargain."

"I plan on marrying you as soon as I can Elsie Hughes, I'd marry you tomorrow if it were possible, today even."

Stepping away from him she laughed, "I meant about taking this off me." Seeing his nervous swallow she took his hand, "But the rest is lovely to know too."


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter 71**

**Honestly, every time I tell someone I am winding this story down and it will be 10-15 chapters more the story takes a turn which necessitates 3-4 more chapters to clean up. At this rate I may never finish this story.**

Charles smiled at her, "I have no issue keeping up my end of the bargain. In fact, it will be my pleasure to do so." He took a step closer to her as she took a nervous step back. Taking another step she stepped back again, "Of course, my love, you will have to stop running away from me."

"I'm not running, I'm nervous."

"Nervous?"

She shook her head, "It's silly."

He took ahold of her hand, pulling her lightly toward him, "Tell me."

"If you take this off, I will be naked."

He smiled, suppressing a laugh, "I believe it will make taking a bath much easier."

"It means you will see me naked."

"Elsie, I saw you naked last night."

"By firelight, there's a difference. I'm not twenty or even forty for that matter."

"Neither am I and you will see me naked as well." She looked away, embarrassed at her own silliness. He pulled her closer still, she could feel his warmth through the thin silk of her negligee. "If it helps you can remove my clothes first." The scathing look she gave him almost made him laugh, "Fine I will take them off myself."

He stepped back from her and slowly unbuttoned his pajama top. He hoped he would be able to control his blush. When he reached the last button he took a deep breath and pushed the shirt back and off his shoulders. He let it fall to the ground then stood there letting her watch him.

Elsie was shocked as he stepped away from her. His fingers moved slowly but steadily across the buttons of his pajama top. Truth told, she wasn't sure why she was suddenly so nervous especially after everything they'd done last night and this morning. But suddenly she was insecure, uncertain. What if he saw her in this harsh light and changed his mind?

Insecurity was written all over her face. It was not something he was used to seeing there. He loved her all the more for it. If stripping naked in front of her is what it would take to make her more confident he would gladly do it. Hooking his fingers into her pants, he pulled them down, past his hips then let them fall to the floor.

She turned from him as his pants hit the floor, turning the faucets, shutting off the water. She'd never seen a man completely naked before. Even last night he'd still been in his pants when he'd joined her in bed. By the time they'd removed his pants the last thing she'd been thinking about was looking at him.

For a second he was hurt when she turned away, then he realized she might never have seen a man naked. He'd actually never seen a woman naked either. With the others it had always been partially clothed fumbles, just enough things moved aside to consummate the act. Suddenly he was nervous.

His hand on her shoulder startled her, "Elsie, turn around, look at me." She shook her head, not trusting her voice to speak. "Elsie, please." Hearing the insecurity in his voice made her turn, look up at him. "I think I understand your insecurity. As I stand here it suddenly occurs to me no one has seen me completely naked since I started dressing myself. And that was a long time ago."

She laughed nervously, "I am much the same Charles. No one, save my mother or sister, has ever seen me naked."

"You are beautiful Elsie."

"I'm old Charles."

"I'm older."

"It's different for men."

He softly touched her cheek, "You are more beautiful to me today than you were the day you set foot in Downton."

"You don't mean that."

Lowering his head, he kissed her softly, "I do. Then you were just a pretty face with a sharp tongue, not a child but not the woman you would become. Now I know how kind and intelligent and giving you are and it all combines to make you breathtakingly beautiful. There are times I am lost just looking at you."

She leaned into him, "You're a shameless flatterer Charles Carson."

"Only where you are concerned Elsie." He kissed her again, deeper than before, his hands made their way to the straps of her negligee. He slid them softly off her shoulders as he took a small step back, creating a distance from her. Letting go of the straps, he felt it slide between them as it dropped to the floor.


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter 72**

**NSFW - unless you work at Kouw's AU version of the Grantham Arms. Then maybe...**

Feeling the silk slide down her body, she moved her arms to cover herself. He caught her hands, threading their fingers together, "There's no need Elsie. You are beautiful to me." He saw the insecurity etched across her face, "If it will make you feel better, I will close my eyes and you can slip into the bath. Once you are settled, I will get in with you."

She nodded, "Please Charles, I know you must find me ridiculous."

"No, my love, you've presented me with a challenge is all." Her raised eyebrow made him smile, "It is my job to make you understand how very beautiful you are to me, clothed or not." Taking a step back from her, he closed his eyes, smiling to himself.

She watched him, standing so confidently in front of her. He was beautiful in his nakedness, standing as confidently in front of her as he would in full livery in the dining room. She envied him this confidence, wondered what gave him such sense of self even when he was exposed to her. She briefly though it might be his pride that it was her watching him which gave him his confidence.

He stood in front of her imagining he was standing at attention in the grandest of dining rooms. He could feel her eyes on him, hoped she didn't find him wanting. Even when he'd been in love with Alice he'd never imagined having such an intimate moment with her. Baring himself to Elsie felt as natural as breathing. He prayed one day she would be as comfortable with him.

Turning to the bath she stepped into it carefully, lowering herself into the hot water. She moved to the far end pulling her legs tight to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, "It's alright Charles, you can open your eyes."

He smiled down at her. She was curled into an almost ball, curled around herself, legs pulled tightly to her chest. "Elsie, are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded, "Yes, Charles, I'm sure." She raised her hand, "Join me, please?"

Walking to the bath he took her hand, placed his other on the side of the tub and stepped into it. He lowered himself into the water, leaning against the back of the bath. He watched her as he settled, "Are you going to stay over there? Or would you like to come closer?"

She smiled and moved closer to him, still covering herself. He rested his arms on the side of the bath and let her come to him. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, when she placed her hand on his chest, "Charles, I'm not sure what to do."

Opening his eyes, he smiled at her, "And here I thought you were the expert."

"I've never done this before."

"Take a bath?"

Pushing lightly on him, she glared, "You know what I mean Mr. Carson."

Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her flush to his body, "Yes, but I do like unsettling you Mrs. Hughes."

The smug expression on his face was equal parts infuriating and titillating. She slid her arms up his body and around his neck, pulling herself more firmly against him, "And here I thought you were supposed to be helping to steady me Mr. Carson."

"Perhaps, but I find I benefit when I keep you slightly unsteady."

She pushed forward, capturing his lips. Her fingers raked through his hair pulling him to her. She pressed her body into his, feeling him respond to her. The idea that she was doing this to him played briefly through her mind. Slowly she began to trust what he'd said to her about being beautiful.

Their tongues danced around one another. As his arms wrapped around her she pulled back, ending the kiss. He was breathing hard, his eyes glazed over with lust. She smiled triumphantly, "I can make you just as unsteady Mr. Carson."

His hands slid down the silky skin of her back, finding her bottom, cupping it. "I admit defeat Mrs. Hughes, do with me what you please."

She pushed up, exposing her breasts to him, suddenly unafraid of him seeing her, "What if we work together?"

Sliding one hand up her body, he found her breast, cupping it slightly. As she arched into his touch he kissed her lightly, "Together, it has a lovely ring to it." His other hand moved between them, finding her center. He gently parted her folds, sliding his fingers across her.

Her eyes slipped closed, mouth fell slightly apart as he touched her. A soft sigh escaped her lips when his hand tightened around her breast, his thumb brushing across her nipple. Her hips moved forward, seeking his touch, legs parting settling just outside of his.

Charles watched her as he slipped a finger inside her, pleasure rippled across her face. He could see her breathing speed up as he moved it in and out of her. Small sounds escaped her each serving to harden him even more. His mind, unknowingly, catalogued each one.

She pushed down onto his hand, needing more contact, brushing against his length. Her eyes opened, meeting his, "Charles, please."

He pulled his hand away then shifted her hips to align them over him. A light push on her hips and she slowly encased his length. Their moans were in perfect harmony. They stilled once her body was pressed against him. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, capturing her lips. The kiss started softly, tender and gentle.

Elsie tightened around him felt him moan into the soft kiss. She tilted her hips forward then pulled back slightly. A delicious friction sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Cupping his cheeks she pulled him tighter to her, deepening the kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

He pushed up to her, tightening his grip. He wanted to push into her, harder and faster but didn't want to scare her. She tightened around him pulling him into her, her hips ground against him, he pulled away from her needy mouth. "Elsie."

She looked down at him, worried for a moment she'd upset him or hurt him. Seeing the raw need on his face told her all she needed to know. He wanted her, despite what she might want to think about herself, her body, he wanted her.

Lifting herself slowly, feeling him slip out of her, his groan matching hers before she snapped her hips forward taking him in again. His cry of pleasure thrilled her and she repeated the process, harder and faster, driving them both. Her hands gripped the side of the tub as she continued to push her body onto his. It was a new experience for her but she let her body take over, pushed her insecurities to the side and accepted that he loved her, all of her, even her silly insecurities.

Charles saw the moment her insecurities slipped away. The second she accepted his love of her and for her. He rested his hands on her thighs, squeezing lightly. The concentration on her face as she moved over him was mesmerizing. He tried to focus on it, tried to push his own pleasure away to make sure she knew the pleasure she brought him but he couldn't. She squeezed against him as she rode his length pulling him ever close to the abyss. He slid his hand to her center, his thumb slipping into the curls, and pressed against her, circled the spot he know would make her come undone. He might not be able to avoid falling over the edge but he could take her with him.

She cried out when he touched her. The thing she'd been chasing, the pure pleasure only he had ever given her moved closer. She shifted forward slightly, capturing his hand, increasing the pressure. Her nerve endings tingled, pushing out from where they were joined. It started as a light pulse, like a match starting but not quite catching. Each stroke pushed the sensation deeper into her body, it spread further. She arched into him trying to capture it.

He could feel her pulsating around him, a natural rhythm teasing him. As her back arched toward him her breasts brushed his chest then moved tantalizingly close to his mouth. His free hand cupped one of them, pulling it to his mouth. His tongue flicked forward teasing the hardened peak before lavishing it with attention. Her anguished cry was music, harmony. His teeth tightened lightly around it pulling sharply before soothing it with his tongue.

His teeth latched onto her breast focused all of the sensations, the match caught, igniting all of the pulses pushing them into a wave of pleasure which traversed her body. Her entire body tightened, she cried out, a throaty, inarticulate noise which echoed through the room filling his senses.

He held her for a moment, feeling the tension in her body as the pleasure overtook her. When he felt her limbs loosen lightly he pushed up to her, felt her tense against him again. Pulling her mouth down to his he pushed up again and again. He surrounded her senses, overwhelming her, barely letting her catch her breath as he pushed for his own release. Three more strokes and he spilled inside her.


End file.
